STORIES AND SKETCHES 



/ 
BY JOHN TOMLINSON, 



AUTHOR OP "SOME INTERESTING YORKSHIRE 
SCENES," &c. 



LONDON : 

SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, & Co.; 
DONCASTER: R. HARTLEY. 



If 



20457 



HARTLEY AND SON, 
Printers by Steam Power, Doncaster. 




CONTENTS 



TlCKHILL. PAGE. 

Chap. L— Which is meant to be Historical and To- 
pographical 1 

II. -^-Describes a journey to Tickhill, under- 
taken by Roger Fitzhenry, giving a 
particular account of the Adventures 

he met with by the way 13 

III. — In which the journey of Eoger Fitzhenry 

is continued .22 

IV. — Discloses Roger Fitzhenry's object in 

visiting Tickhill.. 28 

V.— Gives a capital result to the journey 35 

Colonel Rainsborough's Fatal Surprise at 
Doncaster 42 

Calverlet Hall. 52 

The Hermit op Lindholme. 

Chap. I. — Is merely an Introduction 74 

II. — Brings the Hermit to view, and discloses 
some particulars respecting his manner 

of life 79 

III. — In which the Hermit discloses his Private 

History 84 

IV. — Shews what came of the Hermit's Con- 
tract, and how Master Greaves saved 
himself by Flight 90 

On the Gradual Extinction op Vermin. 

Sparrows, Polecats, &c 96 

Badgers 102 

Foxes 108 

The Iron Sinews op Yorkshire. 

A few General Remarks 113 

Smelting the Ore 119 

Puddling and Rolling 125 

Masbrough Old Iron Works 132 

The Manufacture of Steel 138 

Iron Branches in and around Rotherham 146 



PAGE. 

The Metropolis of Steel 160 

Atlas Works 166 

Cyclops Works 177 

Steel Bells... 183 

Yorkshire Engine Company 191 

Doncaster Kailway Plant 211 

The Oaks Colliery Two Months after an 

Explosion 223 

Nicholas Yak, and his Daughter. 

Chap. I. —The Old Doncaster Manors 237 

II.— The Gipsies' Camp 239 

III.— A Guest to Supper 242 

IV. — A Young Damsel, and Mischief 248 

V.— The Mystery 255 

VI. — Extraordinary Coincidents 261 

VII.— A Gleam of Light ; but very little Com- 
fort 267 

VEIL— Discovered at Last 274 

IX.— AU is Well 281 

Trades Unions at Sheffield 287 



STOEEES AND SKETCHES 

RELATING TO YORKSHIRE 



TICKHILL. 

Chapter I. — Which is meant to be Historical and 
Topographical. 

In ray rambles through various Yorkshire towns and 
villages, I have felt surprised, even appalled, at the 
relative changes which a few centuries bring to pass. 
Then again, after a few moments' reflection, the enquiry 
would arise — Why feel surprised at all this ? Is not 
constant change the very law of existence ? I look at 
the physical history of this great globe, and find repose 
and luxuriance alternating with convulsions and re- 
organization ; a primitive state of things nowhere. 
There is also a natural life of states ; infancy, maturity, 
and decay. If it be true, what the old adage says, that 
Nature abhors a vacuum, it is equally evident that 
our social instincts abhor uniformity, for uniformity 
must soon degenerate into stagnation, and there would 
disease fester. Can we live well always on one article 
of diet ? No. Neither can our moral and social life 
thrive well upon conventional husks. There may be, 
and doubtless is, a preordained law of development ; 
so that even great evils contain within themselves the 
germs of their own destruction, proving to all who 
will understand, that virtue is the supreme good — 
virtue in its multiform phases, but universal applica- 
tion. But, halt ! roving mind ; this is no place to 
garner materials of philosophy : come back again to 
Tickhill. Well, this place was once of greater conse- 
qunce than our largest modern Yorkshire towns ; of 
greater importance than Sheffield, Rotherham, Barnsley, 
iluddersfield, Halifax, Leeds, or Bradford. 

"A 



2 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

After the Conquest Tickhill, and many rich manors 
besides, fell to Roger de Busli ; closely adjoining were 
part of the territories granted to Wm. de Warren : 
each baron must have somewhere to live, so the Busli 
choose Tickhill, the Warren selected Conisborougb, and, 
friends or foes, they began to vie with each other in the 
arts of castle building. Whether or not there was a 
Saxon fortress at the former place cannot now be de- 
termined, but both tradition and history assign a mili- 
tary station to Conisborougb long before the Norman 
William came. If Hengist fought and died here (you 
may see a mound near the Castle-hill under which, 
people say, the great warrior lies buried), then is it 
highly probable that even the ancient Briton had forti- 
fications at Coer Conan, after their mannner. Was not 
King Egbert here roused from his Whitsuntide revelry 
by news that the Danes had landed, and were sacking 
his towns of Englelond which lay nearest to the sea ? 
Had not the famous Harold a castle-mansion here? 
If any one disputes this let him read the veritable 
history of Idleboe, and doubt no more. Yes, reader, 
the antiquity of Conisborough is stupendous. 

We cannot say, in certainty, that there was any 
Saxon fortress at Tickhill. Some writers have conjec- 
tured that because the Castle-mound is an earth-work, 
similar to that at Conisborough, that both are contem- 
poraneous artificial constructions ; therefore, say these 
guessers, the two castles must have been erected on 
antient Saxon or British mounds. I used to think the 
same, but a closer comparison of these structures with 
other castles in Yorkshire of strictly Norman origin, 
convinces me that this opinion is altogether fanciful. 
A Saxon strong-hold there doubtless was at Conis- 
borough, and elsewhere ; but the high minded Norman 
barons brought no pettifogging architects content with 
assimulating their plans to the rude barbarian's re- 
mains. Everything would be contemptuously swept 
away, and adequate sites prepared for the immense 
fortifications. Immense they truly were, for this Castle- 
moat of Tickhill enclosed something like seven acres 
of ground : furthermore, the walls were very strong. 
Here, where the surrounding neighbourhood is low and 
level, it would be necessary to construct an artificial 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. ,3 

mound : but in the case of Conisborough the situation 
is very different, for there commanding hills and cliffs 
encompass on all sides the narrow valley out of which 
the Castle peers. But cannot we see at a glance that 
a great proportion of this mound would be thrown up out 
of the fosse ; while to build a castle on a rocky eminence 
might, in case of seige, necessitate the garrison to sur- 
render for a drop of water. The architects knew, well 
enough, what they were doing. 

We are apt to look upon olden time as an age of 
idleness, where, because men had few artificial wants 
(and our real wants are small), every one had plenty of 
leisure, since he was never perplexed how to live. This 
might be so during the Tudor dynasty, but it did 
not happen, I suspect, under the early Norman yoke. 
Then the labourers were few, and there was work to be 
done ; not the simple work of two or three plough- 
lands in a manor (which was all that need be tilled), 
or supplying a few rude articles of handicraft ; but the 
labour of castle building — an art almost unknown to 
that rude undisciplined people. During the first cen- 
tury after the Norman Conquest, the whole country 
seemed bristling with castles : so that we may conclude 
that the people had a busy time of it. When we think 
about the building of these fortresses, so mighty and so 
numerous, at a period when the entire population of 
this country did not amount to half the number of 
souls now living in London,* the results are almost 
astounding. It would seem as if nearly the whole 
villein race was employed upon castle building, under 
the direction of Norman architects, the meanest la- 
bourers carrying material like beasts of burden, the 
skilled men rearing the walls. Possibly, terror of 
summary punishment would expedite matters to a large 

* We have to struggle through much obscurity in collating 
those early census. Domesday-book supplies us with the most 
authentic information ; but even from this source we can 
gather only an approximate return of the gross population. 
It would appear that at the Conquest there were not above a 
million and a half of people in England ; but supposing in 
consideration of the foreign influx, under William and King* 
Rufus, we take it at two millions ; the country would be but 
thinly inhabited. The whole population of Yorkshire, at this 
time, including chief proprietors, ecclesiastics, frec-tcnents, 
burgesses, and A'illeins would not exceed ten thousand. 

A*3 



4 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

extent, working as the men did under the surveil- 
lance of military overlookers. In piling these famous 
castles, strength was the prime consideration — 
they must be made impregnable. And they were 
made strong, so strong that there was scarcely any 
way of storming them, providing the walls and gates 
were kept vigilantly guarded. To break through 
the barbican by any mechanical appliances that age 
possessed seems impossible. The most feasible plan was 
undermining ; not so easy to accomplish when the 
miners were exposed to showers of arrows and other 
missiles thrown from the castle. But if the leaguers 
managed to destroy the barbican, or cross the moat, 
still there was the principal gate of triple strength and 
flanked with enormous towers, while an iron trellis or 
portcullis was let down from above to protect the en- 
trance. The castle wall was at least ten feet thick, and 
above twenty feet high, the foundations going deep 
down into the water of the fosse. How is an army, be 
it ever so numerous, to storm this wall ? By scaling it ? 
The wall is strengthened and protected by towers, where 
the archers are concealed, taking aim through the nar- 
row loop holes ; while within the outer iallium, on the 
square roofs of detached buildings, the brave defenders 
of the fortress congregate, a sure protection against 
scalers. Suppose that by strategem, under cloak of 
night, a few men do scale the outer wall, and drop 
down into the first bayle, the watch probably will find 
them out before they can open the gate to the besieging 
army and let down the draw-bridge. Granting that 
this happened, however, and the enemy is admited en 
masse, there is still another high wall flanked with 
towers, protecting the inner bayle, in which is the mas- 
sive keep. The same system has again to be resorted 
to, unless this wall can either be undermined or the 
inner gate forced ; and even then there is the keep, which 
seemingly might hold out for a generation, providing it 
contained sufficient supplies. They knew what they 
were planning, those large-minded Norman architects. 

It is said that William the First easily subjugated this 
country, because the people had so few places of de- 
fence. Still, I do not think that fear of foreign inva- 
sion was the primary motive for erecting all these 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 5. 

castles ; it was to consolidate baronial power. One 
would think that after having granted to him manors 
embracing half a county, the keen edge of a feudal 
lord's rapacity would be appeased. It was only whetted 
and thereby rendered sharper. These helpers of a con- 
queror had got possession easily by the sword, and now 
claimed the privilege of escheating everything valuable 
which their territories embraced : the neighbouring 
barons, moreover, often coveted each other's wives or 
daughters, and indulged in mutual robbery. The mesne 
lords kept their beautiful daughters secure within their 
own castles, rarely permitting the maidens to wander 
far without a military escort or sufficient protection. 
But serfs or native freemen experienced common loss in 
these richest household treasures, and had to stifle all 
outward display of burning wrongs. These castle-de- 
fend ed-robbers indulged without restraint their licen- 
tious passions until the very desire palled ; then ejected 
or cruelly murdered the objects of their lust. I some- 
times think that what we term true affection could hardly 
subsist under such a state of things. Households might 
well be few, when the honest propagation of children 
was attended with such gloomy casualties.* Can any- 
thing really noble exist under a system of brigandage or 
free-bootery ? Novelists have painted such a state in 
glowing colours ; but it is only like enamelling a face 
from whence the tints of youthful beauty have all flown. 

* One of our earliest historians does, indeed, tell a different 
tale. He asserts that in William the First's day a girl might 
walk throughout the length and breadth of the land with 
hoards of gold on her person, so rigorously was the law against 
plunder and violation administered. The whole condition of 
society at that age forbids us to indulge in such a favourable 
retrospection. Did not this immaculate William waste the 
whole district of "iorkshire, between the Tyne and the Hum- 
ber, leaving not a hamlet and scarcely an individual— leaving 
nothing for the Danes to conquer? This conduct shows a 
wanton and unparalleled disregard to life and property. Were 
not assaults and outrages so common in that day that William 
made the Hundreds responsible for the life of every Norman 
taken away by violence, imposing this fine in the hope of 
lessening the crime? Mark, it was the life of a Norman, not 
of a Saxon freeman or villein, which was thus protected. 
There was a mutual system of recrimination going on between 
the natives and their oppressors : private outrages and secret 
murders were exceedingly common, and there was no statute 
law adequately administered. 



STORIES AND SKETCHES 

There is only a transient, hectic flush in the enjoyment 
of um-ighteous pleasure ; for this soon kills the true 
life of man. You may think, reader, as many others 
have imagined, that much of the penalty which men in- 
voluntarily pay for the indulgence of unlicensed desire 
is the result of conventional theory or education, mov- 
ing the soul, as it were, out of a perfect animal condi- 
tion. Truly, if we may credit the old Saxon chronicles, 
those early barons did live like tangible wolves or other 
natural brute beasts ; but that all this tended to indi- 
vidual well-being or to national prosperity, we must 
emphatically deny. 

But what do we know of the ieal events associated 
with Tickhill Castle ? Alas ! very little. We know 
who built it — one Roger de Busli ; and with some pa- 
tience we might, probably, compile a list of its succes- 
sive proprietors ; but of the social facts in the case — all 
that which it is most interesting and important to 
know, we can glean scarcely anything. Well, we must 
be content with such materials as there are. King 
Rufus, it appears, granted possession of the Castle 
and manor to Robert de Belesme, who was allied to 
the Busli, but not the direct heir or next of kin ;* and 
the right of possession was, on this account many years 
afterwards, the subject of fierce contentions. In the 
meantime Henry I. appropriated the Castle and Manor 
of Tickhill, retaining them until his death ; but some 
say that the King gave them in dower to his second 
wife. It was during Stephen's turbulent reign that the 
Earl of Eu (descended from Roger de Busli's sister) put 
forward his claims against all the Belesme line, and, in 
conjunction with WiDiam de Clairfait (called also Clear- 
foy, alias Purefoy), entered upon possession ; but in 
Henry the Second's reign it was again attached to the 



* This Robert de Belesme was one of the most turbnleut and 
oppressive barons that the age produced ; a prince among his 
Norman allies, but thoroughly hated by the English. He took 
up arms in favour of Robert, the King's brother, and was be- 
sieged by Henry I. at the Belesme Castle of JBridgnorth : 
then the barons, fearing the increasing prerogative of the 
Crown, and loath to destroy one who was the most powerful 
of their order, urged a treaty upon the King ; but Henry, im- 
pelled by the same spirit of revenge which actuated his Eng- 
lish troops, continued the siege until the castle was taken. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 7 

Crown, and probably made the dower of a queen, since 
we find that Eleanor of Aquitaine, Henry's second wife, 
founded a chapel within the Castle walls. It is clear, 
therefore, that royalty often honoured Tickhill with a 
visit. 

And now there came a visible change in the outward 
form and manners of the age. Those oppressive 
and licentious practices of the early barons began to 
work their own cure. Incredible monkish legends, 
once the chief and almost the only literature extant, 
gave place to thrilling "roundelays," where valour in 
man, beauty and chastity in woman, were the exciting 
themes. Thus Chivalry was born, and the spirit once 
awakened did not lack scope for development. Every 
high-born damsel, especially if she were fair and of 
virtuous repute, had champions in abundance to pro- 
tect her person, or uphold her fame. Truth and honour 
were now acknowledged as necessary appendages to 
noble birth. Woman's smile or a simple love-token 
would incite the courage of youthful warriors, even to 
the killing of dragons, griffins, or any other foes, until, 
for want of sufficient local adventure, the Chivalry of 
England and France engaged to drive the Saracen out 
from the Holy Land. Richard the 1st, as we all know, 
went on that expedition ; but previously he settled the 
honor of Tickhill upon Earl, or, as he would be now 
designated, Prince John, still retaining the Castle, 
thinking, no doubt, that such strongholds were not safe 
in the hands of his weak and treacherous brother : so 
Roger de Fitz-Eustace (subsequently of Pontefract) was 
made Governor of the Castle for the King. And yet he 
was exceedingly liberal to his brother, heaping earldoms 
and manors upon him, so that John had jurisdiction 
over nearly a quarter of England . Much would have 
more, however ; and this man is a signal instance how 
ingratitude may keep pace with benefits received. 
Richard left the government of England under the joint 
regency of Hugh, Bishop of Durham, and Longchamp, 
Bishop of Ely. But the King had not long been absent 
before Prince John obtained possession of Tickhill Castle, 
and when this usurper's policy seemed more than usually 
treacherous, a strong gathering of Richard's loyal ad- 
herents was held at Doncaster. Hither came the Ar*h« 



8 STOKIES AND SKETCHES 

bishop of York, Hameline of Conisborough, Win. Stute- 
vile, with Hugh Bardolph, the King's justice. After 
an exciting conference, the Archbishop recommended an 
attack of Tickhill Castle, but some of the other nobles 
d : ssented, thinking, no doubt, it would be impolitic to 
make an enemy of one who, at no distant day, might 
have the royal power to depose them. Meantime mat- 
ters went very badly with the regency, for Longchamp 
and Hugh de Pudsey did not draw together ; they were 
jealous rivals, or inveterate enemies, each trying to 
crush the other, while John aimed as eagerly to sup- 
plant both. When Longchamp, in the insolence of 
power, took the government into his own hands, setting 
aside, and even imprisoning Hugh, Bishop of Durham, 
the King's brother joined a convention of the people to 
resist this despotic regent's sway — meaning, no doubt, 
to make a straight path for himself. John had plenty 
of ambition, but neither foresight nor courage sufficient 
for such an emergency. It is no wonder that private 
faction and insubordination worked mischief, when the 
King was so long absent from his dominions. Would it 
not be so even now ? Still in England the name of 
Richard was a tower of strength ; and now, after three 
years' absence, he was coming home, albeit with aspira- 
tions considerably damped, for that immense army of 
crusaders was dwindled to a wreck. We all know the 
result — how Richard was waylaid and imprisoned, what 
plotting there was, what conflicting reports grew rife, 
how John made an infamous treaty with the French 
king, and came back with a wilful lie in his mouth, 
saying he had certain intelligence of Richard Cceur de 
Lion's death, and claimed the crown as his brothex -, s 
successor. The people did not believe him, however, 
and resisted all his attempts to get crowned. By-and- 
bye, trustworthy information arrived that King Richard 
had been brought before the diet at Worms, and might 
be ransomed for 150,000 marks (about £300,000), a 
large sum at that day. But he was popular with the 
English people ; the very heart of the nation had been 
stirred by news of the King's captivity ; and now the 
clergy, barons, knights, and burgesses vied with each 
other in raising the stipulated sum. The bishops and 
clergy gave a tenth, and in some cases even a fourth of 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 9 

their annual iucome, while even the plate belonging to 
religious houses was melted down, so that a large pro- 
portion of the sum was immediately forthcoming, 
hostages being given for the remainder, whereupon 
Richard was set at liberty. The King of France then 
wrote to John that laconic epistle — " Take care of your- 
sel, the devil is let loose." But a short time previous 
to this a large army of loyal Yorkshiremen was raised, 
the head-quarters of which was at Doncaster. The same 
Hugh de Pudsey led them on to the siege of Tickhill 
Castle ; but Robert de la Mare defended it resolutely, 
defended it long, refusing to credit the news of Richard's 
being alive. He was at length obliged to surrender, 
when Roger de Laci executed fierce military law upon 
certain subordinates who had, as he affirmed, basely de- 
livered up the Castle to Prince Tohn, thus gaining for 
himself the appellation of Roger de Hell.* 

After Richard the First's death, John found himself 
unable to rule and overawe his barons ; then it was that 
those vengeful lords put forward their own private claims 
in a menacing tone. The King seemed utterly incom- 

* This Roger Fitz-Eustace, constable of Chester, was dis- 
tantly related to the Lacies through the maternal line, hut, 
succeeding to the estates, he also took the name of Laci. He 
joined the crusaders along with his father, when the latter died 
abroad. Roger was at the siege of Acre, and also was sent as 
military ambassador to settle perturbed affairs in Wales : there 
he quitted the people by a method which Oliver Cromwell long 
afterwards pursued with Ireland, gaining for himself a similar 
local reputation. Hollingshead's Chronicles gives a pithy ac- 
count concerning his resumption of duties at Tickhill 
Castle : — 

"Roger de Lascie, constable of Chester, took Alane de Lee 
and Peter de Bouencourt, and upon despite hanged them, for 
that beinge in truste amonge others with the keepinge of the 
castells of Nottingham and Tikehill, which he had received 
unto his custodie of the Bishop of Elie, quondam Lord Chan- 
cellor, they had consented to the treason of Robert de Crokes- 
ton and Eudo de Danille, which delivered the same castells 
unto John, Earle of Montaigne. The same Earle of Montaigne 
M'as highly offended for the deathe of these two persons, and 
therefore wasted the lands of the saide Roger, which laie with- 
in the compasse of his jurisdiction." 

In the year 1199, King John delivered over to Roger de Laci 
the Castle of Pontefract, the said Roger to pay one hundred 
marks annually for five years, and also to give unto the King 
yearly ten palfreys and ten lease of greyhounds, besides yield- 
ing up his eldest son as security for his loyalty to the crown. 



ID stories and sketches 

petent either to deal with rival claims, or, like a strong 
ruler, to retain those powerful fortresses to the Crown. 
Retain Tickhill Castle John could not, and which of 
the two private litigants to favour, so as thereby to 
strengthen his own interests, seemed a matter of some 
perplexity. Robert de Vipont married the last female 
heir of Ernaldus, Roger de Busli's brother, while the Earl 
of Eu claimed from a sister of the said Roger de Busli. 
By the right of primogeniture (a strictly feudal insti' 
tution), the question was plain enough ; but estates and 
dignities did not universally follow the acknowledged 
rule ; for was not there living then a son of Richard the 
First's, and John's eldest brother.* The King at length 
saw, or imagined, that it would be most politic to secure 
the Eu connection, and therefore by <erit commanded 
the delivery of Tickhill Castle, with all rights, &c, to 
the House of Eu. Robert de Vipont contested this 
claim, and, probably by force, got possession of the 
Castle, holding it until Henry the Third's reign, when 
the question came to be long and tediously argued in 
the Exchequer Court ; so that at length Alice of Eu 
was put into possession. This Alice went abroad ; but 
soon, either by death or forfeiture, the Castle again re- 
verted to the Crown ; but, except a temporary bartering 
of it to John of Gaunt, and although it was frequently 
afterwards claimed by descendants of the Busli, the 
Crown never let it go again. 

Wherever there was a Castle, we may naturally infer 
there would be a Church. But the present Church of 
Tickhill was not built until the reign of Richard II. 
This is evident from the various armorial decorations on 
the tower. Here are the arms of Castile and Leon, 
which were borne by John of Guant, and therefore place 
the date of erection not earlier than towards the close of 
the fourteenth century. Moreover, it appears that 
Richard Raynerson by his will, dated 1390, left one 
hundred shillings towards the building of Tickhill 
Chnrch. Over the western entrance are four shields, 
displaying the arms of Fitzwilliam, Eastfield, Sandford, 
and White ; all of which families were residing in or near 

|| It is generally admitted that this youth was murdered by 
his uncle John. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 11 

Tickhill during the fourteenth century. The tower is 
further adorned with several human figures, principally 
female, in niches, but whom they are intended to repre- 
sent I never could discover, lhe interior of the build- 
ing contains many curiosities in the shape of altar- 
tombs, and monuments, several of which date from the 
commencement of the fifteenth century, while one, at 
least, is said to have been removed from some more 
ancient religious edifice. The principal of these are an 
altar-tomb and inscription to William Eastfield, steward 
to QueeD Philippa, and a magnificent alabaster tomb, 
richly sculptured and painted. Upon this latter are re- 
cumbent figures of a knight and his lady, while around 
the upper edge of the tomb runs a crowded inscription, 
now almost illegible, but which, many years ago was 
copied, and reads thus : — 

" Pray for the soul of Sir Richd. Fitzwilliam, Knt., and 
Elizh. his wife, daughter and heiress to Thomas Clarel, the 
which Sir Richard departed the 22nd day of Sept., a.d. 1478, 
and dame Elizh., the 12th day of May, a.d. 1496: and also Sir 
Thomas Fitzwilliam, and the Ladv Lucy Nevell, daughter and 
one of the heirs to the Lord John Nevell, Marquis Montague, 
his wife ; the which Sir Thomas deceased " 

But there was an earlier church at Tickhill — a Saxon 
or early Norman church. We have evidence that it was 
called All-Hallows, and situate a little distance from the 
present town ; but there our knowledge ends : not a 
relic of the building has occupied this site for many 
centuries. 

We can gather only a few scanty materials concerning 
the religious houses of Tickhill. Leland mentions, "A 
house of freres a lytyl by west without Tikhil, where 
lay buried divers of the Fitzwilliams, as the grandfather 
and father to my Lord Privy Seal, the which be now 
translated to the Paroch Church of Tikhil. So ys Pure- 
foy alias Clearfoy. There were also buried divers of 
Clarells in Tikhil Priory. " The monuments translated 
to the Parish Church might include that tomb, the in- 
scription of which we have just read, it being pro- 
bably removed here a short time before the dissolution 
of religious houses. The Clarells are said to have 
founded this Priory towards the close of Henry the 
Third's reign, and it is sometimes designated Clareli 
Priory. But how are we to reconcile Leland's account 



L2 STOKIES AND SKETCHES 

that Purefoy alias Clearfoy was buried here, for this 
man was evidently the William de Clairfait who held 
the Castle under King Stephen ? Either the foundation 
of this Priory was much earlier, or, what is more pro- 
bable, that there was another religious house of some 
eminence in Tickhill. 

Of Hospitals, there were no less than three, of which 
St. Leonard's is perhaps the earliest. The sad condition 
of brethren residing here was made the subject of a 
petition by Archbishop Gray in 1225. Many changes 
have transpired since then ; and as I recently stood 
before the quaint old timber house, the quiet, comfort- 
able appearance of the ancient rooms forbade me to infer 
that the condition of these modern inmates was very 
sad. Of the other two hospitals one was founded by 
John of Gaunt for four poor people, allowing 6d. per 
week for each ; it is now supported from an endowment 
of 28 acres of land. The othe r institution appears to 
have been specially designed for priests, and was alie- 
nated at the dissolution of religious houses. 

Upon the more modern aspects of Tickhill, it is not 
my purpose to dwell ; and yet there is something of in- 
terest connected with these. During the fifteenth and 
sixteenth centuries, many wealthy merchants were born 
or resided here, two or three of whom became after- 
wards Lord Mayors of London. There is an old tradi- 
tion of a Tickhill "Guild," where local merchants and 
traders congregated. There are also visions of clothiers 
bringing their manufactures on pack-horses through 
Tickhill to the "port of Bau tree," and lead merchants 
from Derbyshire transporting their ore by the same 
route, as best they could. Many changes have taken 
place in trade and transit since that period. But even 
in that later age, Tickhill Castle had a very bad cha- 
racter, being, from all accounts, little better than a nest 
of brigands. It was a common practice for knots of 
armed men to sally forth and plunder those honest 
traders, hiding themselves and their booty within the 
Castle. But the end came at last : Oliver and his coad- 
jutors first captured and then gave orders for utterly 
demolishing this fortress. The site is now occupied by 
a private residence still called Tickhill Castle. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. K> 



Chapter II. —Describes a Journey to Tickhill, un- 
dertaken by Roger Fitzhenry, giving a particular 
account op the adventures he met with by the 

WAY. 

" Roger ! Come, its time to get up. Roger ! 
[giving him a vigorous poke with the elbow.] Donna 
Maria ! Why he's as fast as a tortoise. But I know 
what will rouse him." Every man has a vulnerable part 
somewhere, and the sleeper is sensitive under the third 
rib [nips him]. 

Now, my pretty one, do not suppose that an old dis- 
ciple of Lavater cannot read that phiz-hieroglyphic, 
which as Tiffany would say, is half a frown and three- 
quarters of a smile. But you are wrong, inferentially 
and absolutely wrong. You were cogitating as follows : — 
Scene. — A green Damask led, in a lofty, elegant 
chamber. Dramatis Persons. A Family Man, and 
a Family Man's Spouse. — The real facts are a subject 
more worthy the pencil of a Holbein or a Carracci. 
Picture to yourself a room in Nottingham Castle, not 
the present large and ugly ruin, but that Norman for- 
tress built by William the Conqueror, and afterwards 
conferred upon his natural son, Wm. Peverel. It is 
very dimly lighted, with walls thick as a prison, 
and so bare of furniture that the keenest bum-bailiff 
would despair of making a seizure. 

The first nip produced an effect, but not such as to 
awaken the sleeper : so he nipped him again. 

" M — m — m. Rats ! Sche — e — e ! [rubbing his 
eyes.] I see now : its all right, Brian." 

A huge bowl of water had previously been conveyed 
into this sleeping room, into which the aforesaid Roger 
ducked his head and arms, scrubbing himself afterwards 
with a towel of goat's hair, which operation gave a 
healthful glow to the skin. And then he said his 
prayers ; very devoutly so far as the outward ceremonial 
appears, and let us hope, with some benefit also to the 
inward life. 



14 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

" Now Brian, listen. I am going a long journey, as 
before advised, and thou hast done well to awaken me 
betimes. Saddle Ronald, my charger, and prepare a 
good hoi*se for thyself ; for we must travel some thirty 
miles or more through the forest of Sherwood before this 
day's sun lies down below the clouds. Fill two flasks 
with the best wine, and put plenty of provision in our 
wallets, and look well to thine arms." 

" Then I must rouse Hugo to help me." 

" Right : but make no delay. [Exeunt Brian.] He's 
a faithful fellow —somewhat forward in his bearing, but 
as true as my Cologne blade." 

After a hearty but very hasty breakfast, 'Squire Roger 
Fitzhenry buckles on his armour, and is speedily 
mounted ; the castle-guard has notice of their intended 
egress, the gates are opened, when, putting spurs to 
their horses' flanks our stalwart riders soon reach the 
base of the stately hill, clear of the little charred town 
of Nottingham. How pleasant it is to trot through the 
earliest beams of sunlight, where, from the dew-laden 
glades and woody pathways May's hungry Sol distils a 
thousand perfumes. They trotted on — these youthful 
horsemen — feeling the exhilaration although but faintly 
cognizant of the sources from whence delight sprung. 
Soon they began to descend among the shadows of dark 
woods, and through pathways very much impeded by 
brambles. And yet, while Zepher's breath scarce woke 
the trees, music there was in plenty. The dove, with 
amorous feelings ripe, was cooing to his mate ; and 
thousand songs of joy ascended high on that young 
English morn. The fox did bark to rouse his slumber- 
ing prey, and many a faithful hen died on her nest, 
rather than quit the charge . But what cared those 
rough riders about the symphony of birds, or the in- 
dividual motives which directed brute beasts in their 
prowling ? Next to nothing : the ear took in certain 
outward sounds, but these scarcely vibrated to the inner 
sanctum. 

I had almost forgotten to mention that our horsemen 
were accompanied by a hound ; one of those large, 
strong, wiry, primitive dogs which we now see only in 
pictures : he (the dog) took a visible interest in those 
voices of the forest. At times he woidd halt suddenly, 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 15 

listening with head inclined ; comparing, reflecting, 
judging ; then, because his conclusions did not demand 
any decisive course of action, off started the hound to 
regain his companions. How do we know this identical 
dog's particular experience ? A reason is soon given . 
You are aware that the ancients believed in what is 
called metempsychosis. Well, the soul of a dear friend's 
ancient grandfather dwelt in that dog ; so the matter 
can be easily substantiated on the authority of this 
ghost. 

After a while — say an hour from the time our tra- 
vellers set forth — the road, if it could be called a road, 
became somewhat intricate, and Brian began to mani- 
fest anxiety. 

'• I believe," said he, "that we are verging too much 
toward the sun." 

" We are all right," replied the 'Squire : and they 
went on a little further. But soon the faintest trace of 
a pathway was lost in what seemed an interminable 
jungle, and even 'Squire Roger began to acknowledge 
that they were wrong. 

41 The dog sniff's something; there is game of some 
kind in the wind." 

'' Deer, probably," said the sagacious Brian. 

Just then, a grisly old boar was disturbed, which 
grunted, and peeped out from his lair. Who are these, 
thought he, thus rashly daring to disturb my solitude ? 
The dog advanced first, as if to brave attack, then 
halted short, disliking much the sight of tusks so men- 
acing. Then did the boar step out grinning most 
horribly ; but ere he reached the hound 'Squire Roger 
spurred his horse, quick to the rescue. He lifted up 
on high his dazzling axe, meaning, no doubt, to sever 
the pig's chine ; but the brute swerved, and thus re- 
ceived a foul cut in the hams. This so enraged the 
boar that he became like his progenitors possessed with 
devils. How madly he did rush ! resolved to gore the 
horse and rider — such deadly purpose gleamed in his 
small bright eye. The horsemen were resolved to 
thwart the wild boar's purpose : they killed the pig, 
and afterwards pursued their journey, troubling them- 
selves no further with the carcase, except to let the 
hound refresh himself with blood. 



16 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

But neither horse nor man can travel we'll all day 
without something to eat and drink. Moreover the 
weather was very hot : so when the riders came to a 
little dell, where appeared very sweet pasturage, they 
alighted from their saddles, pulled off the horses' bridles, 
tied a piece of cord to the neck and fore leg of each 
animal, so that they could not wander far, and thus 
permitted them to graze. The men spread their lunch 
upon the grass, and carelessly reclined under the 
boughs of a gigantic tree : they sat, or rested a long 
time over their wine. This liquor was poured out into 
little brazen cups, 'Squire Roger being first served with 
due honour ; and as they quaffed in silence each began 
to indulge his own particular reveries. Brian was very 
anxious to learn beforehand the purport of this journey. 
He had a shrewd guess respecting their ultimate des- 
tination — felt quite convinced that they were going to 
Tickhill ; but what for ? Wine, in those days as now, 
made some men confidential ; but the Squire was more 
than usually chary about revealing his object. "Brian," 
said he "we are going to Tickhill, on a little private 
business of my own ; let that suffice." So the serving- 
man was obliged to restrain his curiosity, and the pair 
lay an hour or more on the cool grass, under the spread- 
ing oaks, each quietly revolving his own surmises. 

When the horses had been allowed a moderate rest, 
the travellers again set forward, hoping soon to regain 
their lost track ; but the further they went the more 
difficult did their situation appear. But after a while, 
a thin column of smoke was perceived, curling upward 
among the trees. "Humph!" said Brian, "there is 
cookery done there." Journeying towards the spot, our 
travellers caught sight of the most primitive hut or 
cabin that ever was seen. It stood on a little hillock 
encompassed with trees ; and a few yards further on 
was a brook of very clear water. The cabin was scarcely 
ten feet high, built of stakes driven into the ground, 
the sides being further strengthened with rough boughs 
crossed obliquely, while all the top, save a hole where 
the smoke poured through, was roofed with sods : 
verily, it was a most cosy-looking dwelling. Then out 
rushed a dog, in size and strength more than a match 
for their hound, which had encountered the boar ; so 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 17 

that it became difficult to prevent a fight between 
these two growling antagonists. The horsemen bawled, 
and menaced vengeance with their arms ; but that 
canine defender of the cabin would not soon have been 
quieted had not a young and beautiful woman intro- 
duced order upon the spot. " Verga," she said, quietly 
but firmly, "come here." Then pointing with her 
finger to a certain spot added — " Lie down, Verga : good 
dog !" Verga growled and whined no longer ; but al- 
though he lay down, with his nozzle upon his paws, 
there was an uneasy, suspicious language in those ever 
watchful eyes. The slightest menace of his mistress 
would have awakened all the dog-fury within him. 

Had the real goddess Diana as suddenly been revealed, 
the vision could scarcely have more excited our travel- 
lers than did this young and beautiful woman amid the 
tangled solitude of these woods. She bent downward 
her eyes, but made no greeting, as if to convey an im- 
pression that the intrusion was personally offensive — 
women in all ages have had this intuitive method of 
conveying information by silence. While thus stand- 
ing, in noble modest dignity, her long hair, which would 
have reached far below the waist, being tied into care- 
less clusters by the fresh tendrils of flowers, 'Squire 
Roger made an obeisance amounting almost to reverence, 
while Brian thought within himself that he had never 
before seen " ladie" so beautiful. Her dress was a loose 
robe of soft stuff, nearly concealing her sandalled feet, 
but leaving the arms, neck, and much of the shoulders 
open and unimpeded — a dress at once simple, but ad- 
mirably adapted to set off a voluptuous form. 

Roger Fitzhenry was the first to break silence, by 
telling the lady that they were journeying towards Tick- 
hill, but had lost their way } and had been guided hither 
by the smoke, in hope of being directed towards the. 
right path. 

"That path," replied the lady, " will not be easy to 
find. My husband (she laid a nervous emphasis upon 
the word husband) is absent, or he would willingly have 
acted as your guide." Then, after a slight pause, 
during which the 'Squire's face underwent a close 
scrutiny, she added — " But I expect him shortly to 
return, and am even now preparing our simple meal ; 
perhaps you will share it with us." 

B 



18 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

'Squire Roger thanked the lady in terms as sincere as 
they were courteous, stating how they had taken a 
slight repast but a short time ago : he would wait, how- 
ever, and gratefully acknowledge the services of her 
husband as guide. 

Scarcely was this sentiment uttered, before another 
large dog came bounding towards the cabin, and pre- 
sently a fine stalwart man appeared, who evidently re- 
garded our travellers with no complaisant feelings. 
But after a little explanation the strangers were treated 
as guests, and, having secured their horses, went for- 
ward into the hut. Even Verga began now to banish 
his suspicions and offered friendly greetings to his 
canine visitor. This cabin, in its internal arrange- 
ments, was by no means devoid of comfort, or even of 
rural ornament, betokening the presence of a virtuous 
and contented woman. The walls were neatly lined 
with dried forest shrubs and grasses. Some loose dried 
grass covered the floor, upon which stood a bench, most 
curiously constructed of gnarled boughs ; also a rustic 
stool and table. An old iron pot was simmering over a 
bright wood fire, giving forth an appetizing perfume. 
But how was this pot conveyed into the deep recesses of 
such a forest ? The procurement of this pot, together 
with two or three rude articles of earthenware, might 
furnish themes for a thrilling narrative : but even if 
these could speak one must not listen, as the subject is 
not relevant. One bowl there was of wood and very 
capacious, into which the seething mess was dexterously 
poured. The guests were served each with a wooden 
platter, and a pair of sticks, one resembling a spoon, 
the other a large skewer ; some coarse bread, formed of 
bruised rye, and a pitcher of clear water from the brook 
were placed upon the table, and the feast commenced. 
The strangers never dreamed, I ween, of a witches' 
cauldron ; still it were difficult to tell of what that 
steaming mess consisted. It was not venison ; it was 
not swine's flesh ; there was a fowl in it, perhaps a 
hare, perhaps some badger — anyhow it was very unc- 
tuous. There was neither wine nor beer to offer ; but 
when the eating ceased, our travellers produced that 
which the lady refused to taste, but of which their host 
partook, and thus drinking a stronger sympathy wag 



RELATING TO rOUKSHI-UL 19 

iufused amongst the trio. At length Roger Fitzhenry 
brought out the enquiry which had long been hovering 
upon his lips. 

" My kind friend," said he, " why do you hide here 
in the wild bosom of the forest ?" 

"Because Natui-e, however wild, is purer and more 
righteous than our kindred who came over the sea. 
Kindred ? Ugh !" 

' ' A good answer. I begin now to discern a faint 
glimmering of light ; some one has oppressed thee ; 
there has been outrage committed." 

" Not on me so much, as to one who is dearer to me 
than life." 

"Skin for skin. — What is it the priest says, Brian V 

' ' ' Skin for skin ; all that a man hath will he give 
for bis life.' Thus spake a wise man of the olden time." 

Then, calling to his lady, the forester said, " Tell 
a little of thy sorrow to the stranger, Elfy" (her name 
was Elf rid a). 

Elfy said, "No, if spoken at all it were fittest for 
thy tongue, Geoffrey." 

"Thou could tell it best," replied he, " because the 
cruel wrong has burnt deeper into thy soul." 

Elfrida hesitated with maidenly reserve, and blushed. 
But just as resolution to begin the task beamed in her 
loved one's eyes, she raised her head, and, with a slight 
frown on her classic brow, which showed the heroic 
mind, related thus her history — 

"My first recollections are of a fruitful spot, where 
the sheep grazed and oxen went forth to plough. And 
near to our cottage was a sweet valley wherein a palaee 
stood, which I thought had been built by the angels 
above as a temple for the pious monks. Oh ! it was a 
beautiful place, and so great. They called it by the 
name of "Our Lady of the Rock," because the hills 
towered upwards on either side, and the blessed Virgin's 
protection was vouchsafed to this Abbey. The holy 
men who lived there were possessed of such power that 
by prayer they could remove sickness, and were so wise 
that they could discern evil thoughts ; and they could for- 
give sins. Thus I thought, and thus we were com- 
manded to believe ; but may the great God in heaven 
pardon my sin if I misjudge them, for they did things 



20 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

which were not pure ! I had a lovely sister once, who 
was commanded to go a pilgrimage. She went, but 
never came back . 

* * * » * 

1 ' Childhood seems to me now but a short dream — the 
days when I used to lie on the grass, tearing wild 
flowers into fragments (I remember how my sister used 
to charge me not to wander beyond the hollow tree, else 
the bogies would carry me away), romping with Tiger, 
the wiry-haired dog, and in the evenings falling asleep 
on my father's knee. When I was nine summers old 
my sister Eleanor was seventeen, and then she was 
forced away. My father first suspected, then com- 
plained ; and thus brought upon himself only per- 
secution and heavy penance. Although as sound 
in body as he was pure in heart, hidden griefs wore 
him painfully away. Alas ! even before grim Fear 
foreshadowed the event, my father had died. He 
was the last male descendant of the Cerdics, a race 
honourable in the blessed days of Edgar and of Ed- 
ward. Women count as nothing ; or at best, are 
made the victims of man's lust and avarice : but 
pitiable is the life of widowhood. There was a differ- 
ence felt soon as my father died ; but we went on tilling 
the land with the help of those old slaves who were at- 
tached to the soil. Thus passed some four winters, 
until one day mother said, " Elfy, a Knight of Tickhill 
Castle has been here asking for thee. Keep close 
concealed, my daughter, for his object is plain." 
"Mother," said I, " Geoffrey has spoken plain, and 
lovingly." " Be true to Geoffrey," replied my mother ; 
"for he is an honourable man." So I hid myself, 
being afraid even to look upon a strange face. But 
Geoffrey came frequently to our house ; and several 
times I walked out with him a furlong or so, in the 
evening, before we parted. On these occasions we were 
evidently watched, for one night we had just seperated, 
and I was tripping merrily home, when two ruffians 
sprang from beneath the shadow of a tree and said I 
must go with them, where a more noble lover was 
waiting my appearance. They vowed neither to molest 
nor insult me, providing I went quietly : but go with 
them I should, either willingly or by force. ' ' Never, " 



DELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 21 

I exclaimed, " while a throb of life can animate resis- 
tance !" whereupon I raised a cry which I thought 
must reach my true lover's ear. And Geoffrey did hear 
it, for he soon rushed to the spot. Then a shrill 
whistle from one of the ruffians was answered at a dis- 
tance — from a scout, as we supposed ; but before he 
could join his comrades one of our foes was lying sense- 
less on the ground. Unfortunately Geoffrey received a 
dreadful cut in the neck (shew the scar, Geoffrey), and 
while my brave defender and the other ruffian were 
struggling in a mutual deadly grasp, I seized the fallen 
man's sharp weapon. Just then the third antagonist 
came up, and, (Heaven forgive me if the deed was 
wrong !) I plunged the dagger deep in the villain's 
heart." 

" Did he die !" enquired Roger. 

"In a short time he died. The other assailant now 
took to his heels, shouting that a deep revenge would 
fallow, for I had killed a De Enville. We fled together; 
and could live here all our days, if God protects my 
mother." 

" But there is one wish unfulfilled, my Elf y," said 
the brave hearted lover. 

" May I ask what that desire is ?" enquired the 
'Squire. 

• ' That a priest would step this way, only once, and 
be prevailed upon to marry us." 

81 Amen," said the 'Squire. 



STORIES AND SKETCHED 



Chapter III. — In which the Journey of Roger 

FlTZHENRY IS CONTINUED. 

Our travellers would not stay all night at the forest 
hut ; the 'Squire was often pressed to remain, but he 
refused. Was it because he feared the inmates, who, 
having divulged that terrible secret, now meditated 
private assassination — for dead men tell no tales ? Such 
an idea never entered the head of either Roger Fitzhenry 
or Brian : they had too high an opinion respecting the 
uprightness of their entertainers. Was it from fastidi- 
ousness, and because the cabin was deficient in sleeping 
accommodation ? Scarcely so, for they were robust men, 
inured to peril, and, at times, acquainted with very 
bad lodgment. Moreover, they had observed two pri- 
vate doors leading to some inner rooms : would there 
not be separate dormitories, one for Geoffrey, the other 
for Elfrida ? The guests might thus be accommodated 
either with their host's separate grass-bed, or sleep, 
well enough, on the dried leaves in the room where 
they now sat. The true reason why the 'Squire would 
not stay was that he intended to reach Rufford Abbey 
before sundown. So, after taking a parting cup with 
the forester and a fervent kiss of the fair Elfrida, 
Roger started on his journey. Their host went with 
them a few furlongs, and put the travellers in the right 
tract ; but a dozen miles, at least, separated them 
from the monastery where they meant to halt. 

When they were again by themselves in the heart of 
Sherwood Forest, the brow of Roger Fitzhenry began to 
lower, and he became more than usually taciturn; silent 
he was, and deeply brooding. After half an hour's 
ride the path became distinct enough, and no marvel, 
for paths to a monastery are easily determined. So 
they ambled on in silence, and presently the dark, in- 
tricate wood opened out into clear vistas of green- 
sward, with here and there a patch of corn-land, and 
hovels for oxen, and, at scattered intervals, a herds- 
man's hut. A few furlongs further and the Abbey of 
Rufford appeard to view — a stately palace in the wilder- 
ness, at sight of which the face of Roger brightened, as 
if some prize was nearly to be won. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 23 

" Brian," said the 'Squire, " we shall rest here for 
the night : keep on the watch, and ascertain if ever a 
strange lady has passed these portals during yesterday 
or to-day." 

Humph ! said the astute Brian to himself, I thought 
there was a woman in the case. 

" But be very discreet, for thou knowest, or ought to 
know, that there is but a short step between liberty 
and a dismal death-cell." 

" I know," replied the sagacious Brian. 

Rat — tat— tat. [A faint echo, and a long silence.] 

The sound of a heavy bolt drawn back arrests our 
traveller's attention, when an ugly, sour visaged man, 
with cropped hair and beard, confronts them at the 
wicket. 

" Benighted, we crave hospitality," the 'Squire said. 
" Furthermore, I have matters of importance for the 
Abbot's ear." 

The grim porter bowed, but uttered not a word, 
stepping aside as a signal that they might pass. 

" But our horses require the first care ; they are 
jaded, as well they may, for we have travelled a long 
and devious way since this morning's sun rose." 

Here -upon the porter struck twice a kind of gong, or 
metal pan, and the sound had scarcely died away be- 
fore two slaves of tall, athletic form made their appear- 
ance, whose muscular power would render them for- 
midable antagonists in any private fray. The porter 
pointed through the doorway, where the horses stood, 
but still said nothing. The slaves seized each a quad- 
ruped, and were leading them away, when our serving- 
man interposed — 

" By your leave, I always see the horses properly 
cleaned, fed and bedded for the night." So he followed 
them to the stables. 

The Abbey villeins groomed the nags, under the su- 
perintendence of our 'Squire's retainer, and were by no 
means loath to partake of a little wine from the leathern 
bottle, while Brian, to encourage good-fellowship bid 
them drain the last drop, since his master was well 
able to pay for a replenishing. So they drank it 
gladly, and became rather jovial over their work. 

" Many travellers passing this way ? 0, by-the-by, 



24 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

there is a holy friar named Durden, who should be 
even now on his return to Tickhill — I have a certain 
message to communicate on meeting father Durden." 

One of the slaves instantly dropped a wisp of straw 
with which he was belabouring the horse's hide, and 
gazed anxiously into the speaker's face. 

' I have got on the right scent, thought Brian, with- 
out, however, betraying the slightest alteration of 
manner. 

" Father Durden," he continued, " is a man lusty 
in form, and in the prime of life, but of rare learning, 
and, withal, very pious. I would give a groat for five 
minute's conversation with this holy man." 

" Present cask ?" enquired the slave who was ad- 
dressed. 

" Cash down ; and thanks into the bargain." 

" He is staying in the Abbey at this very moment." 

" Thanks ; here is the money. Is he alone ?" 

" There is no man with him," replied the slave, 
who now proceeded to rub vigorously at the horse. 

" I have heard," observed Brian, " that he is charged 
with the escort of some rich lady. Not that the matter 
is of any consequence either to my master or myself, 
but I heard that he left Nottingham in company with a 
young and beautiful damsel. Doubtless his object was 
to place this lady in some holy retreat, and thus assist 
her vows. How noble the devotion when young 
maidens, rich and beautiful, whose instinctive life 
seeks nourishment from the pulses of sensual desire — 
how wonderful that such persons should reject all the 
allurements of society, and become — what ? holy sisters, 
recluses, nuns !" 

The aforesaid slave subdued an ugly grimace as he 
kept rubbing the horse, but made no answer. Just at 
this moment was heard outside the hurried pattering of 
horses' feet. 

" More travellers arriving," observed one of the 
slaves. 

"'May be departing,'" suggested Brian, who 
hastened at the same time to the door. It had grown 
almost dark, so that Brian could dimly discern what 
seemed a ruck of men and horses ; but their movements 
were hasty and mysterious. They will surely halt at 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 25 

the portal, thought our man-at-arms ; whereupon he 
dodged under a wall to reconnoitre. Presently a couple 
of men appeared, leading or rather carrying an unwil- 
ling victim. 

"You may force or muiilate my body," a female 
voice exclaimed, " but the spirit will resist ! God ! 
is there no present note of vengeance ? How long shall 
men outrage the purest feelings of humanity under the 
cloak of religion ? Alas ! virtue can expect no earthly 
protection, when the sovereign lord is an unprincipled 
libertine, too sensual to govern with equity, and too 
weak to preserve social order." 

"Bah !" replied a gruff voice, "stop this prating. 
It is enough for a woman to obey her lord's behests. 
Adam was created for God, and the female for Adam. 
Has not the great Apostle enjoined — ' I suffer not a 
woman to controvert the man, but to render obedience 
at all times.' The world could never be governed if 
women are not passive. Woman, thy beauty and thy 
graces were designed to smooth the brow of care, and 
with voluptuous arts redeem an hour from man's severer 
duties. Then with thy body do me worship." 

Another voice chimed in with canting tone — "Be 
gentle, lady, deftly kind and docile ; for gentleness and 
love are woman's mission ; her only path to happiness 
below." 

" Gentle and loving !" exclaimed the female voice, 
' * kind and docile, when cruelty and rapine sours the 
mind ? Ye preach like arrant knaves. Fraternal 
yearnings cannot thus be stifled. My father ! * * 
* * And yet 'tis better thus . 'Tis better that he 
never knew the fate which now awaits me. But, true 
as a righteous God exists, a time will come"— 

"Here, stop this prating. To the saddle with her. 
The jade has been spoiled by mistaken kindness ; a few 
days' solitary confinement will tone down ber temper. 
Then, methinks, she will appreciate our favours. Pass 
the thong round the damsel's waist — a little tighter. 
Randolf, I make thee answerable for her safe custody. 
Now on to Tickhill." 

Did Brian, our man-at-arms, hear all this, and pas- 
sively skulk under the shadow of a wall ? He did. 
Brian, besides his natural shrewdness, was not unmind- 



•26 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

ful of the squire's remark ; felt that he could do no 
good by opposing force, but might rather get himself 
into trouble. The squire's man went back to the 
stables, but his mind was intent on this captive lady, 
for he compared the passing scene with some circum- 
stances which had recently transpired at Nottingham 
Castle. The Abbey slaves were just finishing their 
work by the aid of dim smoky torches ; but he who had 
bartered news respecting the friar seemed ill at ease.- 

" Master," said he " you will not bring me to harm 
for telling about father Durden ?" 

"Not I," replied Brian, upon which, fastening the 
stable door, all three walked over to the Abbey. But 
how was he to get a few words privately to the 
'Squire's ear ? This was the question which perplexed 
our serving-man. It was long past any regular meal- 
time at Rufford Abbey, but on being conducted by the 
porter to the common room, some victuals were served 
to the benighted visitor, together with strong ale in a 
black leathern jug. Now, victuals and Brian never 
went awry ; so he set himself to eat with a zest as if 
this had been the second instead of the fourth meal that 
day. Still, as he ehamped his beef and fcread, and took 
large draughts of that nutty brown ale, his knowledge 
troubled him, and he would almost have given a double 
tooth for five minutes' conversation with his master. 
After a while there appeared a figure grim and taciturn, 
who lighted a supplemental torch, and said — "The 
master bade me tell thee to have the horses ready two 
hours after sun-rise." 

" But I must see him before I sleep," replied Brian ; 
" so I pray thee conduct me to him at once." 

The grim figure shook its head, adding — "That can- 
not be, for thy master is privately engaged with the 
Abbot." 

Not a word more would the figure speak, but made a 
bold gesture of impatience, waiting to conduct the guest 
to his dormitory. The latter saw no alternative but to 
obey ; so he followed the guide through long vault-like 
passages into a small, strong cell, where any evil or 
bloody deed could be done securely. Pooh ! it was a 
simple dormitory, and the attendant held his torch aloft 
to show him the relative position of certain articles in 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 27 

the room. The guide then vanished, carefully closing 
the door, still without expressing a courteous wish or 
parting benediction. 

But how fared Roger Fitzhenry at the Abbey of Ruf- 
ford ? Most hospitably as regards feasting and wine- 
bibbing ; it seemed as if the Abbot and superior monks 
took a special delight in making his visit comfortable. 
He was kept in total ignorance respecting the close pro- 
pinquity of father Durden, however ; never heard a 
whisper concerning that mysterious night-flitting, or 
knew that the beautiful captive was ruthlessly trans- 
ported hence until he met his servant Brian, in the 
morning. 



28 STORIES AND SKETCHES 



Chapter IV. — Discloses Roger Fitzhenry's Object 
in Visiting Tickhill. 

To comprehend the object of Roger Fitzhenry's jour- 
ney, it will be necessary to go backward a little, both in 
respect to place and time. Time — Thirteen days ago. 
Place — Nottingham Castle. 

Thirteen days ago Father Durden arrived at Notting- 
ham, knowing well that all the good cheer which the 
Castle contained would be freely offered to a son of the 
Church ; and dearly did "the oily man of Grod" like 
the good things of this life. 

"The man that lives godly is sure to live well. 
So freely had he been entertained that the visit of a night, 
as at first proposed, had been prolonged nearly a week, 
and still seemed as far as ever from being ended. The 
holy father, at this time, was merrily carousing with 
'Squire Roger, flavouring his tales of church scandal 
with liberal potations from the wine cup. It was draw- 
ing towards evening, on a dull day which threatened to 
be stormy, and heavy drops of rain began to fall. 

"There's no chance of your leaving the Castle yet," 
said Roger ; " you see the heavens and the earth con- 
spire against travelling. 1 ' 

"But, good Roger, our holy Mother Church has her 
calls which cannot be neglected. I am on my way to 
Rufford Abbey, as you know ; from thence to Tickhill." 

"But you are not going to stay at Rufford Abbey ?" 

" No, I shall stay but a few days there. The Blessed 
Virgin, through the most holy Pope Innocent, deputes 
me to remain awhile at Tickhill." 

Both priest and layman payed involuntary homage 
to the name of Christ's Vicar on earth, the most power- 
ful ruler that ever rose in Christendom. 

The rain was now descending in torrents, beating 
impotently on the grim Castle walls, the howling wind 
forming a wild symphony to the coarse jest and boister- 
ous laugh within. But just then a loud knocking at 
the Castle gate was heard above the raging storm. Sud- 
denly a messenger entered, bringing intelligence that a 
French merchant was lying outside at the point of 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 29 

death, and that his daughter claimed for her father and 
herself hospitality from the Castle. 'Squire Roger rose 
hastily, and bidding his messenger lead the way, prepared 
to follow him through the pelting rain. The priest also 
started up at the same instant. 

' ' It behoves me, one of her humblest sons, to be ever 
ready to administer the holy ordinances of the Church," 
said Father Durden. 

" Then let us proceed together," added the 'Squire, 
" and perform those kind offices of charity and religion 
which the distressed or the dying may require." 

They were conducted outside the gates to a dwelling 
occupied by a villein, who had charge of the feudal 
beeves. There both Roger and the priest started to be- 
hold the figure of a pale emaciated man stretched upon 
a bed of straw, with his head supported by the arm of 
a beautiful young woman, who knelt at his side. Their 
entrance was scarcely observed ; but the 'Squire gazed, 
spell-bound, as at an apparition from the celestial 
world. The countenance of the sufferer wore a blended 
expression of tenderness and anguish : there was a 
wildly anxious gaze in the daughter's dark and lustrous 
eyes. 

"Brian," said Roger Fitzhenry, " help me to carry 
the poor man as carefully as we can to the Castle ; more 
assistance can be rendered there." 

" No, no, good host," replied father Durden, " it 
would be his death to remove the sufferer on such a 
night as this. I must use my prerogative, and com- 
mand you to let him remain here." 

The 'Squire insisted upon removing the strange mer- 
chant at once, and was tucking the straw into a kind 
of litter for the purpose, when the friar became so ve- 
hement in his opposition, and so alarmed the young 
lady by dwelling upon the possible consequences of such 
a step, that Roger was compelled, very reluctantly, to 
postpone the attempt. Never, perhaps, had the latter 
felt more disappointment and chagrin, particularly when 
a hint was given him that he, the friar, required, to be 
alone with the dying man, in order to administer those 
rites which the Church had provided : so Roger Fitz- 
henry returned with his servant to the Castle. 

What passed between the friar and the merchant may 



30 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

be imagined, but cannot fully be described here. The 
priest learnt, however, that the sick man was possessed 
of much wealth, which was, for the most part, secure in 
the possession of certain French merchants, at present 
in England, the whole of which, should he die, would 
revert to his only child, who was the companion of his 
journeyings. The sufferer confided to the priest a few 
special provisions which he wished to make for his 
daughter's future welfare ; secrets which, we need 
scarcely premise, were entrusted to an eager but treacher- 
ous listener. 

Next day the merchant seemed to have rallied a 
little. Roger was early in attendance, and renewed his 
solicitation to have the sufferer removed. But the 
priest opposed more warmly than before, and was again 
successful. From that moment the 'Squire took a strong 
dislike to friar Durden, especially as the priest would 
scarcely ever leave the sick man's presence, and seemed 
impatient of Roger's intimacy with the strangers. It 
was ever a futile aim to intimidate Roger Fitzhenry, or 
divert from him a cherished honest purpose ; thus 
it happened that when the 'Squire approached the friar 
sulkily retired : but very soon Roger established for 
himself a friendly intercourse, sharing the confidence of 
the merchant and his daughter more fully, and far more 
worthily than the priest. 

Several days had thus passed away, and Roger began 
to entertain hopes of his patient's ultimate recovery. 
One evening, after a lengthened interview with the 
priest, alarming symptoms were exhibited by the mer- 
chant. In those days priests were almost the only 
doctors ; friar Durden prescribed in this particular 
case, but the merchant died. 

Strange to say, next morning when Roger Fitzhenry 
called, he found only the common inmates of the dwel- 
ling with the corpse of the merchant. The whole 
truth now flashed upon the 'Squire's mind and he re- 
solved that, cost what it might, even if it cost his life 
in the attempt, he would have condign punishment for 
that infamous friar. But deep resolve is never rash 
or hasty in the means it employs to attain its end. 
He thought long and calmly upon the measures to be 
taken, while his meditations took such turns as these — 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 31 

This bad Durden is a priest of the Church, and the 
Church has all power in heaven and on earth. The 
priest doubtless counts upon having the Church's sanc- 
tion or connivance, because what he has done may add 
wealth to the Church. But will the Church really en- 
dorse the act ? And then passed in review through 
Roger Fitzhenry's mind the state of affairs, civil and 
ecclesiastical, at that juncture. At that time English 
commerce had scarcely an existence, but political cir- 
cumstances united our country very closely with France. 
The little trade that was done in England at this period 
was chiefly carried on by travelling French merchants, 
who in the existing condition of public affairs often 
regarded themselves as the ruling race.* The victim of 
priestly cupidity was the daughter of an influential 
Frenchman. Pope Innocent was on the point of offer- 
ing the English crown to Philip of France. Here was 
an occasion when an outrage perpetrated on a French 
family was most likely to find redress. But, first of all, 
it was necessary to deliver the young lady, from 
personal violation, it might be, or a secret and life-long 
imprisonment, or an untimely death : to this end he 
must beard the regicide priest in his lair. And now, 
by your leave, reader, we will continue our journey. 

When 'Squire Roger heard from his serving-man 
what had taken place during the night, he made all 
possible haste to reach Tickhill. There were few public 
highways, and no toll-bars in those days, so it was 
highly improbable that he would gain any information 
by the way-side : moreovor the lady's abduction from 
Rufford Abbey took place under cover of night. And 
yet the pursuers did gain a little information. Verily, 
I think there is often more than a blind casualty in 
bringing things to light ! 'Squire Roger came upon a 
man who was tending cattle, for we must remember 
there were no enclosed pastures at that age of the world 



* No doubt, on the other hand, considerable prejudice was 
shewn by the native population to these wealthy foreign 
traders, while the laws in relation to commerce were both 
arbitrary and absurd. If a foreign merchant died on English 
soil in debt, his creditors had power to seize the person of any 
one of his countrymen found here and put him under arrest, 
until he had discharged all the deceased insolvent's liabilities. 



32 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

— Had he seen or heard of any persons travelling that 
way during the night ? 

"During the night," replied the herdsman, "I was 
lying under a tree, and it was nearly dark, so that I 
could not plainly distinguish the cattle which were doz- 
ing and browsing around. Presently I heard the snort- 
ing of a horse — for animals are quick to recognise the 
presence of a stranger. Do you think the horse could 
see better than we can in the gloaming, or did it smell 
me?" 

" I cannot tell," replied the 'Squire, "but go on with 
the narrrative." 

"Well, I lay perfectly still and concealed, not know- 
ing whether there were night-marauders after our oxen 
and the red-deer, or whether they were honest travellers 
who had some weighty reasons for urging their journey 
at that untimely hour. They passed — three or four 
horses and their riders — within a stone's throw of where 
I lay, and I heard the voice of a female in up-braiding 
tones, but could not distinguish what she said. Just 
then the horses were put into a quickened pace, but it 
was a great while before the last footfall died away, for 
sounds come from a great distance on a still-night." 

" And you have no idea who these horsemen were, or 
whither they were journeying ?" 

"Not the slightest," replied the herdsman, "only I 
doubt they meant no good but evil to the woman in 
their company." 

"Perdition seize them !" exclaimed the 'Squire, as 
he urged his horse to a quicker pace. 

Our travellers halted not until they came almost with- 
in sight of the rich and prosperous town of Tickhill. A 
short distance from the town — what one would now call 
a mile or a mile and a quarter from the Castle mound, 
four horsemen made their appearance from under a 
thicket of trees, and commanded our travellers to halt. 
Had there been any pressing necessity to fight, there is 
little doubt but 'Squire Roger and his stalwart man-at- 
arms would have hesitated not a moment about the 
odds. But so far as they were concerned nothing could 
be gained by a broil. Their approach had evidently 
been descried by the castle-guard, and these four horse- 
men had come out to reconnoitre. Had the strangers 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 33- 

been traders, with money and merchandise in posses- 
sion, one cannot tell what might have happened ; but 
being soldiers, and one of them a man of quality, pro 
bably with some special mission to Tickhill, the case 
bore a different aspect. But what took place ? Did 
the Tickhill soldiers lift their helmets or military head 
gear as signs of courtesy ? No ; that custom was not 
then in fashion : they made a lane for our horsemen to 
pass, 'Squire Roger first, then his servant ; but 
cautious both, ready for either a word or a blow. But 
did the Tickhill soldiers look on and say nothing ? You 
shall hear. When the 'Squire was fairly athwart them, 
their spokesman broke silence saying — 

" Prosperity attend your mission." 
Whereupon Roger Fitzhenry made answer — 

' ' May the Holy Virgin regard all honest folk !" 

"And think ye we are not honest," replied their 
spokesman. 

"I hope so,'' said the Squire. "But do ye serve 
the brave and noble Mordaunt V 

" We do," replied the men in chorus. 

"Then lead the way, fori must have speech of him." 

In sooth it was but a petty cavalcade, in times when 
many a gorgeous train was wont to honour this neigh- 
bourhood with its' presence ; but the event was just 
sufficient to excite some curiosity in the good town of 
Tickhill. On the outskirts there were men shearing 
sheep, who halted over their clipping, and gazed fur- 
tively at the strange horsemen. Had they not been 
manifestly soldiers, the wool-grower, who stood amidst 
the snowy fleeces might have speculated upon a cus- 
tomer, for little or no part of this wool would be locally 
spun, but bartered either through some resident or 
casual merchant, and thence exported into Flanders. 
The town lay chiefly around the Castle walls ; but our 
travellers passed one dwelling of nobler pretensions, 
where the wealthy Clarells lived — a stone building with 
an upper story or second floor, which latter was gained 
by a strong flight of steps from the outside. The bulk 
of houses in this famous town, however, were low one- 
storied buildings, some of rubble and plaster, but most 
of them formed of wood. From nearly all of these 
dwellings a face or two might be seen, peering through 



34 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

the narrow loop-hole windows, or through the strong 
oaken doorway, and were we to recount one -half of the 
gossip which this visit awakened, that alone would fill 
many a page. The skinner hurried to the shop, or shed, 
as we should now term it, of him who made leather 
garments, and hazarded an opinion that news of great 
moment was just brought down from the King. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 35 



Chapter V.— Gives a Capital Result to the 

Journey. 

Our travellers, with the four scouts, soon halted under 
shadow of the huge castle-mound of Tickhill, a hill not 
then as now forming a dark canopy oftrees; it bristled 
with a vast area of embattled walls, surmounted with 
towers, above which rose the strong and majestic keep. 
This grand fortress had then suffered but little mutilation 
either from time or siege. When near the barbican one 
of the strange horsemen blew from his horn a certain 
note ; the draw-bridge was speedily lowered, the port- 
cullis raised, and Roger Fitzhenry, with his man-at-arms, 
passed under the massive arched gateways straight into 
the inner court. Here they were met by the keeper of 
the castle, Albretch de Mordaunt, and the greeting be- 
tween the two squires was most hearty and fraternal. 

" Right glad am I to see my gallant friend Fitzhenry, 
especially at this juncture, when all the chivalry will 
meet but two days hence within our famous tilting 
ground at Blythe. But, it may be, some public or 
private object of great moment has brought Squire 
Roger to Tickhill." Then, bidding him dismount, the 
Governor conducted his guest with all due honour into 
one of the principal dwellings situate under the castle 
wall, where they laughed and jested in all the exuber- 
ance of friendly glee. Almost before the guest had 
doffed his armour a stoup of wine stood ready to be 
quaffed, and the good liquor did not wait lorg un- 
appropriated. 

"Roger, my boy," said the host, " Won't we have 
a merry time of it '( I'll wager a butt of wine that ou 
Yorkshire boars for size and courage beat anything that 
can be found in all Sherwood." 

" I accept the bet," replied Roger Fitzhenry ; " there 
are not such swine in all the world as lie concealed 
within the vast solitudes of our own forest." 

"But they are so numerous here," added the Gover- 
nor, " and must be thinned. Never, in my life time, 
did I see so many litters of pigs. Moreover, in winter 
time, their presence brings large packs of wolves into 

c 3 



86 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

the neighbourhood ; thereby endangering better cattle, 
and even the lives of men, women and children. I 
have seen portions of garments on the snow where 
scarcely one of the wearer's bones was left uneaten. How 
can one man, or even two or three together, stand up 
against a pack of ravening wolves ?" 

"Then exterminate the pigs, by all means," replied 
Roger. 

"By-the-bye there are a few herds of splendid wild 
bulls and cows grazing in the valleys down towards the 
river ; these would afford more sport than swine -killing, 
besides which the carcases would be worth carrying 
home. Suppose we have a general bull-hunt ?" 

" Quadruped hunting is not my business at present ; 
I am in search of nobler game." 

" Phew !" ejaculated the Castle-governor. 

But Roger disclosed the real object of his visit, telling 
his friend under what circumstances the foreign mer- 
chant died, how the priest had abducted the merchant's 
daughter, how he had tracked them from Rufford to- 
wards Tickhill, where he knew the friar then was, and 
intended to stay, probably for months. The Castle- 
warden listened with some interest to this recital, and 
when his guest asked whether anything was known here 
respecting Friar Durden, Albretch de Mordaunt re- 
plied — 

" I have certain information that a strange priest ar- 
rived here soon after daybreak with two horsemen, and a 
lady was in their company." 

"And have they lodged her in the Priory of Tick- 
hill ?" 

" Not at present ; she is now securely kept at the 
house of Sefton, who tills the Prior's field : where her 
ultimate destination may be is uncertain." 

" That," replied our 'Squire, with smothered rage, 
u will soon be left to the free choice of the lady herself, 
or a bold resolve shall never stir me more !" 

"Fortunately the damsel is not lodged at the Priory, 
or any attempt to deliver her might be fraught with 
risk ; as it is, I will aid thee, and afterwards be most 
willing to rejoice at the nuptials.'' 

In vain Roger assured his friend and host that he mis- 
took the aspect of affairs, that he (Fizhenry) was ac- 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 37 

tuated only by pure chivalry and public weal, the sharp- 
witted Mordaunt shook his head and smiled ; the reso- 
lution to assist, however, was apparent enough, so they 
set about devising some feasible plan whereby they might 
gain access to the captive. 'Squire Roger advocates an 
immediate storming of the dwelling ; his companion 
manifested less fervour but more craft, being unin- 
fluenced by the same personal feelings which actuated 
his guest. 

" Be calm and reasonable ; leave the plan to me, and 
before next day's sun throws a slant beam across the 
castle-wall, I'll place the captive lady's hand in thine. 
Is that sufficient ?" 

"I'm fearful that the crafty Friar will yet outwit 
us. Yon little dream of what a prize he holds, despite 
the pelf. Ten hours ! — it seems to me an age."' 

"But see, I'll put a secret guard upon the dwelling, 
and neither priest nor robber shall approach. Is that 
sufficient ?" 

"Good. I can doubt no further. " 

So the two friends drank and feasted all that day ; 
still, although Roger Fitzhenry drained many a goblet, his 
inner thoughts clung, perturbed, to the merchant's 
daughter. At length night came on ; but it was one of 
those etherial evenings which never get dark ; just a 
thin film or haziness overspread the earth. The 
Governor of Tickhill thus lightly addressed his com- 
panion — 

"Most gallant squire and lover, the dust and travel 
stains must be put off, or the disconsolate maiden, even 
if prepossessed in thy favour, may vouchsafe but a dis- 
tant greeting. So pray' the get washed." 

Then after a moment's scrutiny the host continued — 
« Thy vest and body raiment are so so, when cleared 
well from dust ; but I must rummage through my own 
wardrobe to supply a gayer tunic." 

"Nay, good Mordaunt, though somewhat worn and 
dim the tunic serves its purpose. Is not a brave front 
and a warm heart better than gay tunics ?" 

" But when men seek a lover they should dress with 
dainty art." 

" Tush ! I tell thee once again my object is not per- 
sonal, but philanthropic." 



38 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

"Phew !" ejaculated his unbelieving host. 

It was so, despite those asservations Roger Fitzhenry 
cleansed and dressed himself with more than ordinary 
care, accepting the loan not only of a rich tunic, but a 
good pair of tights. The appearance of our two Squires 
differed in a remarkable degree ; he of Nottingham was 
not so tall nor broad, but much more active, with limbs 
well proportioned and firmly knit. His face, though 
somewhat browned by scorching suns, was naturally 
fair and round ; his hair was of a flaxen hue, but soft 
and curling. The Tickhill Squire was an athletic man, 
in height above six feet. But what a breadth of 
chest, and what an arm ! His hair was dark 
and wiry, cropped close ; while his broad jaws and 
small compressed month were half concealed by a 
fierce moustache. In truth this Mordaunt was 
no " ladies' man."* The castle-warden of Tickhill 
made little alteration in his body-gear, but enveloping 
himself in a loose monkish garment and drawing the 
hood closely around his head bade his comrade keep 
thus by his side ; then, having exchanged a few words 
with the sentinels he led 'Squire Roger forth into the 
sleeping town. Not one human being did they en- 
counter, and, save the distant bark of watch-dog, and 
the occasional lowing of an ox, silence was all around. 
Presently they turned from the main street or road into 
a narrower pathway, skirted with giant trees, and could 
dimly discern a broad dark building on the left side of 
the lane. Halting for a moment, and hearing nothing 
astir, Mordaunt raised to his lips a kind of pipe or reed, 
and drew forth a sound much resembling the note of 
some bird. It was speedily answered at no great dis- 
tance. Soon rustling footsteps were heard, and a tall 
man emerged from out the shadow of dim trees. The 

* And now the reader smiles — one of those racy, self-suffi- 
cient smiles, which says as plainly as the face can speak, " Ha, 
na ! I have caught the tale-teller at last in his own paradox ; 
thus— if those two men differed so much in girth and height, 
is it likely that the lesser man would wear the other's clothes ?' 
Certainly not, nor is it so recorded. Festival or holidlay suits 
were costly in those days, derived sometimes by inheritance, 
but oftener by plunder ; for even highway robbery was then 
considered no disgrace, and was commonly resorted to by the 
retainers of feudal lords as a principal source of income. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 39 

scout — for such he was — stood silent, waiting to be 
questioned, when the Castle-Warden asked him if any 
communication had passed between Sefton's house and 
the Priory 

"About an hour ago, I traced a monk down the 
pathway." 

Roger grasped the hilt of his weapon and ground his 
teeth. 

"And where is the monk now ?" enquired the Go- 
vernor of Tickhill Castle. 

"A prisoner at no great distance, held by grim Gurth 
and Rolf with the falcon's beak." 

" It is well done,*' exclaimed 'Squire Roger ; " bring 
the craven priest before us at once." 

But Mordaunt countermanded the order, saying, 
4 ' Nay, let them keep him quietly and secure for the 
present: just now he would only be an encumbrance." 

" The friar will cause no alarm, I vouch," replied 
this messenger, " for Rolf, who swears that his priestly 
garb is all a disguise, has already threatened him with 
six inches of sharp steel if he makes the slightest resist- 
ance. Rolf, for some private reason, hates the very 
•sight of monk and friar." 

"Retire to ambush," replied his master, "until thou 
again hearest the bird-call ;" so the messenger vanished 
by the same way that he came. 

" Now what shall be done ?" enquired^the impatient 
Roger. 

" Follow me in silence, and all will be well." 

Now it happened that when they came near the out- 
ward paling of the Court — for that house was environed 
by a stout wooden fence, intended, evidently, to confine 
cattle, that a man stepped forth through a narrow 
wicket, who was immediately recognised by the Castle- 
Warden. 

" Well, Beorn, did you get speech of the lady ?" 

"Yea." 

"How?" 

"As before mentioned, Zilpa, the maid-servant and 
I are near of kin ; therefore free access to the house 
was afforded me. At the first opportunity I gave Zilpa 
a full account of the whole matter, and begged her to 
grant me a secret interview with the captive. But this 



40 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

she positively refused to do, fearing the ban of holy 
Church. Then I told her that if my mission was frus- 
trated you would come with a posse of armed men and 
burn their building to the ground ; on hearing which 
she became alarmed, and, after unfastening a certain 
door, left me solely to my own devices. Not wishing to 
obtrude hastily and presumptuously into a lady's presence, 
I knocked, but no answer came ; then, after having 
opened the door a little way, I said — "A soldier of 
Tickhill with greetings from the Governor of Nottingham 
Castle, humbly craves an audience." A voice, in firm 
yet mournful tones, replied — 'I, who am a prisoner, 
can refuse no man admittance, even though I suspect in 
this intrusion some further persecution from a Priest.' 
Hereupon I entered, and the sight of so much loveliness 
and grief — " 

"Eschew all unseasonable comment," replied our 
'Squire, hastily, "and tell us whether the lady is willing 
and ready for an audience." 

" Yea," replied the man, " ready and willing." 

"Then bear a honourable message respectfully; in- 
form her that we are waiting to give aid and protec- 
tion." 

The gallant Squires were not kept waiting long — not 
more than two or three minutes ; and when the lady, 
half -hidden behind the huge form of their messenger, 
caught sight of Roger she sprang convulsively to his side, 
and grasping his arm exclaimed — " Save me from a de- 
gradation which is worse than death." 

Our 'Squire restrained himself ; his first impulse was 
to elasp her in his arms and say — Nor earth nor hell 
shall ever part us more, while life endures. But he 
restrained himself, for the thought arose that perhaps 
all which was required of him, and all that the maiden 
would deign to accept, was simple deliverance and cour- 
teous protection. So he assured her of safety, and asked 
whither they should escort her, offering safe guidance to 
his own castle of Nottingham, where the remains of her 
father were waiting interment. 

"Heaven help me !" cried the maiden, "for forty 
hours my destiny appears like a painful dream. Now 
I have found friends, lead me at once to my father's 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 41 

corpse." And the lady sobbed as if her heart would 
break. 

Three horses were in readiness at the castle -gate ; 
then, after a meal more cheerful than any the lady had 
taken since her father's illness and death, they prepared 
for the journey ; our 'Scprire donned his armour, the 
attendant arranged the trappings, the parting cup was 
taken, they sprang into the saddle, and Roger Fitzhenry, 
turning to his beautiful charge, gave an assuring glance 
which beamed with delight. The Tickhill Governor, 
smiling waved adieu. 

But did he, Fitzhenry, marry the French orphan 
after all ? 

He married her, and she became the mother of heroes. 

Very good. But was anything further heard of Geof- 
frey and Elfrida, tenants of that rural hut in Sherwood 
forest ? 

Nothing whatever. Whether they ever got married, 
and reared a numerous progeny ; whether they perished 
by famine, by outlaws, by wild beasts, or lived on as 
they were to a good old age cannot now be ascertained. 
The 'Squire did once institute a vigorous search, but he 
never could discover the exact spot where they had fore- 
gathered, which is scarcely to be wondered at, for Sher- 
wood forest in those days was little better than a vast 
woody labrynth. 



42 STORIES AND SKETCHES 



COLONEL RAINSBOROUGH'S FATAL SURPRISE 
AT DONCASTER. 

The written history of Yorkshire can, I think, fur 
nish nothing more startling and brave than certain ad- 
ventures connected with the sieges of Pontefract Castle 
during the last civil war — nothing more startling and 
brave. This grim old fortress of Pontefract gave the 
parliamentary General more trouble than anything 
besides. True, after a second protracted siege, the 
garrison was starved into a surrender ; but the Castle 
was afterwards recovered by the Royalists, while the 
mode of its recovery reads more like a page of romance 
than, as it really is, a credible piece of history.* 

* It may not be uninteresting" to refresh our minds with the 
particulars. Many loyal gentlemen of Yorkshire had formed 
part of the besieged garrison, while many more had furnished 
pecuniary aid and troops for the King. These men, now 
mulcted in heavy fines, retired to their country residences, 
but were everywhere suspected and annoyed by the conquer- 
ing Roundheads. The consequence was, they waited only for 
opportunity to avenge both their private wrongs and the 
public cause. One man there was named Morrice, who, as 
a youth, was page at Wentworth Woodhouse, to the Earl of 
Strafford, but afterwards he entered the army. On some ac- 
count (perhaps from personal pique) he took his skill and 
valour where there appeared more chance of promotion, and 
soon was made Colonel in the parliamentary forces. Colonel 
Morrice was a man of rai-e talents, successful in almost even- 
engagement, for his superior abilities were backed by the 
most indomitable courage. But he was a Libertine, active in 
sensual indulgence as in militaiy duties— a true type of the 
roystering cavalier. Now Cromwell and Fairfax and the 
great body of parliamentary leaders tolerated not this sort 
of men; they liked God-fearing men, who could conquer 
their carnal appetites, and seek Divine guidance in all things. 
Perhaps they discovered also in Colonel Morrice's true poli- 
tical character, no real sympathy with their own purposes 
and ends ; so when the army was remodelled Morrice received 
much praise for his military abilities and courage, but was 
left without employment. This man also retired to his private 
estate, which was situated at Elmsall, only a few miles from 
Pontefract. There were not wanting many sincere parlia- 
mentarians, however, who Siunpathised with Morrice, and 
looked upon his dismissal as a severe loss to their cause ; 
amongst the foremost of these was Colonel Cotterel, the new 
Governor of Pontefract Castle. Au intimacy sprung up be- 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE, 43 

Pontefract Castle, with its seven towers and enor- 
mous walls, occupied, as we know, a rocky eminence 
where there was no high hill to overlook it : thus it 
became almost impossible to storm Pontefract Castle. 
Our present mechanism of war, and engineering skill, 
doubtless would have done the job ; but it could not be 
managed in that age, although we must bear in mind 
that parliament employed in these sieges 301b. and even 
50lb balls. 

Towards the close of 1648, both the Royalist forces 
and the fortunes of Pontefract Castle'^were reduced to a 

tween them, which became so close that not only had Morrice 
free access to the Castle, but was admitted as a confident by 
the Governor in all the latter's official plans and purposes : 
ho had also ample means of ingratiating himself with tho 
whole garrison. Morrice was to the Governor as a right eye 
and a right hand ; being, moreover, a very pleasant com- 
panion in their hours of relaxation. Morrice affected to bring 
the Governor notice of secret meetings and Royalist stratagem, 
giving him information as to who amongst the local gentry 
were worthy to be trusted ; so zealous was he as to form a 
corps of reserve, which might act in concert with the gar- 
rison on any emergency. No man can give advice like Mor- 
rice, and no man is more faithful and trusty : so thought the 
friendly Governor, Cottere?. But he was totally wrong ; for 
all this time Morrice was in treaty with the King, and leading 
Royalists to regain possession of Pontefract Castle. It ap- 
pears strange that in those days when every movement of in- 
fluential men was watched by jealous eyes that this arch- 
hypocrite's designs were not signally defeated. Although 
seldom present at those secret Royalist meetings, the knave 
managed to hold communication with the members by means 
of a cypher which none but the initiated could understand. 
It is certain that many of the leading parliamentarians read 
Morrice's true character, for Cotterel received numerous warn- 
ings to beware of his designing guest. These letters do not 
appear in the least to have shaken the Governor's confidence, 
being deemed no better than the foolish scruples of jealous 
friends, or the slanders of envious detractors ; indeed, on more 
than one occasion, Cotterel made them the subject of ridicule 
to his " friend." Morrice, however, affected to treat the matter 
seriously, absenting himself from the Castle for nearly a week 
together, during which time the governor would send pressing 
invitations to hasten his presence, saying that no language could 
express how much he valued his society ; whereupon the arch- 
hypocrite would return. And now by bribes and threats he 
began to gain accomplices amongst the Castle-guard. But at 
that time the plotting received such a check that it did not ap- 
pear likely to be renewed, and all through a woman's confiden- 
tial babbling. In the whole history of the human race was it 
ever known that a woman could keep a secret? Michael Anne, 
of Frickley, whose father was then a prisoner in the Castle, 



44 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

low ebb. Sir Henry Cholmley with 5,000 troops sur- 
rounded the Castle on every side ; but he was mani- 
festly unequal to the command, and Fairfax appointed 
Colonel Rainsborough to supplant him. Sir Henry, 
like most imbecile men, was jealous of his prerogatives ; 
he first complained to Parliament, and afterwards re- 
fused to make way for a successor, thus causing much 
dissension in the besieging army, which tended not a 
little to encourage the garrison. General Fairfax, how- 
ever, seeing that more resolution was necessary, placed 
1,200 foot and two regiments of horse at Rainsborough's 
disposal, with prompt instructions that he should direct 
the siege. 

was one of Morrice's accomplices. But Michael naturally 
wished first to get his father out on parole, in which object he 
succeeded ; Mr. Anne, senr. , was informed of the plot, and he 
made a confidant of one Holgate, who incautiously mentioned 
it to his wife, and thus the rumour spread until a report 
thereof reached London. Colonel Overton then ordered Mor- 
rice, the two Amies, with several other person- . to be seized 
and brought up to London for examination. Bui; although the 
committee of investigation sat often, and had recourse both to 
threats and bribes, no evidence could be adduced, and the pri- 
soners were liberated to re-organise their plots. With the 
Castle-governor Morrice, freed from accusation, stood higher 
than before ; in Cotterel's opinion no man ever was so unjustly 
maligned as his friend Morrice. Thus it happened that this 
deep plotter and hypocrite had even greater facilities afforded 
him in his treacherous designs ; he remained also the idol of 
the garrison, feeing and feasting the men until he possessed 
an influence over them superior to the governor. One night 
in 1648, everything was ready. A number of Parliamentary 
soldiers stationed in the town were in Morrice's pay as acco 3 - 
plices, three hundred of the Pioyalist infantry and fifty horse 
were waiting in the neighbouring woods, ready for an oppor- 
tunity to enter the Castle : so the plotter apprized those officers 
of the Castle favourable to his designs that an attack would be 
made in a few hours, and bespoke the guard in his interests. 
Au attempt was made to scale the wall. It happened, how- 
ever, that the aforesaid sentinel got inebriated, and his place 
had to be supplied by another, who was not cognizant of the 
plot. The double ladder (prepared at Morrice's house) was 
fixed, and two men were in the act of mounting, when the 
sentinel gave an alarm, bringing to the rampants a number of 
armed men, who fired upon the assailants, so that the whole 
party fled, leaving their scaling ladder behind them. 

Here occurs what may be termed a hitch in the Chronicles. 
Where waa Morrice himself during this bold assault? "The 
first on the ladder, and'the last to fly," say a dozen narrators, 
who, parrot-like, repeat the same note. Others say he was not 
in the enterprize at all, but inside the Castle, privately enter- 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 45 

Meanwhile Sir Marinaduke Langdale, one of the 
ablest generals in the Royalist army, is a prisoner 
in Nottingham Castle. Langdale was ever strenuous 
in pleading for succour and aid to the distressed 
fortress of Pontefract. It was Langdale who arrived 
just in time to save the garrison from a surren- 
der during the first siege of 1644-'5 ; it was on him that 
the garrison chiefly relied for information respecting 
their cause, and to him it looked for advice and as- 
sistance in its greatest emergencies. Had the King ac- 
cepted Langdale's counsel, and concentrated his army 
further north, the terrible disaster at Naseby would 
have been averted, Pontefract Castle relieved, while the 

taming the governor with his lively discourse. Brother his- 
torians, however immaculate from guile, some of you are un- 
consciously fibbing ; the arch-plotter could not, in propria per- 
sonce, be both with the governor and the assailants. But he 
was somewhere, and in forming our opinion of the real part ho 
took in this conspiracy we must reason on probabilities. If 
Morrice was in the Castle, it is strange that he did not arrange 
matters better about the sentinel, since the success or defeat of 
the whole plot depended mainly upon him. The regular senti- 
nel got intoxicated, and it admits of a question whether the 
identical liquor producing this effect was not supplied by Mor- 
rice himself. He got drunk, and his place had to be supplied 
by another. It was, probably, very late before this inebria- 
tion disqualified the man for duty, while, to screen the culprit, 
the tergiversation may not at that precise time have been com- 
municated to the governor ; the whole after-arrangement 
might have fallen upon a subordinate officer. Oi*, we may take 
this view of the matter— a comrade conscious of some laches 
on the part of the sentinel, finds him drunk and asleep ; he 
takes his place for the night without any regular appointment, 
and thus frustrates the plot. But the governor and his guest, 
roused by the alarm, would naturally rush to the watch-tower; 
and it is said that Morrice, after the marauders were at a safe 
distance, stimulated the fire against them. Those who maintain 
that Morrice was leading the scalers, and not in the castle, in- 
form us that the whole party fled into the woods, sending out 
scouts to learn if they were tracked, but finding nothing of the 
kind their leader retired to his house, and next day returned 
to the Castle. Be this as it may, the governor does not ap- 
pear to cherish the least suspicion against his "friend." His 
*' friend " examined the rope-ladder with the greatest curiosity, 
marvelling at the audacity of such an attempt, suggesting to 
the governor certain precautionary measures, the chief of 
which was to strengthen the garrison by bringing in all the 
parliamentary soldiers who were quartered in the town. It 
was an unfortunate moment for the Parliament when Cotterel 
agreed to this expedient. It necessitated the ingress of extra 
beds and baggage ; therefore the governor issued a warrant to 



46 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

Royalist army, continually reinforced by the loyal Scots, 
might have stemmed the stream of faction. It was not 
so ; the advice of Prince Rupert prevailed, and though 
the RoyaKsts fought well at Naseby, while Sir Marma- 
duke Langdale did prodigies of valour at the battle of 
Preston, the fortunes of Charles were under an 
eclipse. 

And now, in all the country, there were only this 
fortress of Pontefract, and Scarborough Castle left to 
the king. Still, although the Royalists' prospects were 
daily getting gloomier, this garrison kept up its coui'age. 
When the besiegers first heard of the victory at Naseby 
the 'commanding officer despatched a herald to the 
Castle with a report, offering even then, if the garrison 

briny: these things in. Morriee knew that the order was given ; 
guessed also when the staff was likely to arrive, and fulminated 
another plot. One morning about six o'clock, Captain Win. 
Paulden, and nine or ten soldiers, disguised, some as labourers, 
others as policemen, arrived with beds, &c, and enquired for 
Major Morriee. The guard, who was an accomplice in the plot, 
went to the governor (he was j ust returning to rest after his 
night-watch,) with information that the beds had arrived, and 
that Major Morriee was expected in half an hour. The 
governor gave orders to admit the constables with the beds, 
and dictated a message to Morriee, telling the messenger to 
conduct the Major here as soon as he arrived. Poor deluded 
governor! belittle thought what enemies were already, wait- 
ing at the gate. The guard brought the keys, the massive 
doors were thrown open, and Morriee (who had just arrived), 
Captain Paulden, sham policemen and sham labourers, entered, 
and threw down the beds. Morriee threw down a crown-piece, 
bidding the guard fetch in ale. Capital tactitian ! Two or 
three soldiers went for the ale, and when they were gone the 
draw-bridge was raised, the sham policemen drew their 
weapons, and Morriee, knowing his men, addressed the 
the residue of the guard — " You are mine, you are mine, and 
you are mine," singling out eight of the men*. To be brief, the 
captain of the guard found he was in a minority, when all the 
soldiers who were not in their beds, and not in the plotter's 
confidence, were cast into a dungeon. Captain Paulden, with 
two or three others, then proceeded to the governor's room, 
who was speedily awakened and armed, but after waging an 
unequal contest, he was overiK>wered and made prisoner ; thus 
in less than an hour the whole garrison was subdued, and the 
Royalists had their own again. 

It was an infamous proceeding, truly ! O, yes, we know the 
old proverb— " Everything is fair in love and war," but, in 
our day, it would require a large amount of sophistry to exult 
this Morriee into a hero. 



BELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 47 

would capitulate to treat the soldiers leniently. The 
governor, however, did not believe the account about 
Naseby, and sent an answer to the besiegers that he 
valued neither their power nor their mercy : but it 
afterwards transpired that the most falsely favour- 
able accounts were sent to the besieged by their friends, 
hoping by this means to encourage the governor to hold 
out. That five thousand, or even fifty thousands troops 
would be able to storm the fortress in fifty years, how- 
ever energetic might be their commander, admits of a 
doubt : there was no way but starving the garrison 
into submission. Here it is worthy of note how a 
mere handful of men did often drive back large columns 
of the besiegers, and bring in supplies for the Castle ; 
but " desperate men make desperate deeds." 

And now news came that Rainsborough with a large 
force was coming to strengthen the besiegers, while to 
crown their misfortunes trust-worthy information ar- 
rived that Sir Marmaduke Langdale was a prisoner, 
having been detected in disguise at an inn near Not- 
tingham, and taken. It was soon intimated to the 
garrison of Pontefract that if it did not surrender its 
old general would be brought and executed before the 
walls : so a plan was devised to gain possession of 
Colonel Rainsborough, that he might either be exchanged 
for Langdale, or suffer corresponding vengeance. 

And now let us come closer to the real question on 
the paper (the • death of Rainsborough) ; state the case 
according to local historians, and furnish some criticism 
thereupon. 

The plot or design is said to have originated in the 
fertile brain of that Captain William Paulden, who was 
Morrice's principal accomplice in retaking the castle. 
But we must remember that Morrice was, at that time, 
the real commander of the garrison, and it is difficult 
to conclude otherwise than that this arch-plotter had 
something to do with the project. Drake in his Ebo- 
racum says that Rainsborough received his death-blow 
from the hand of Morrice ; but this evidently is a 
mistake, since all the evidence goes to prove that 
Morrice was not present in the expedition. 

1648. — One dark night in October — some say it was 
the 29th, and some say it was the 31st. Well, the 



48 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

difference of a day or two in the chronology is not o 
much consequence so long as the main circumstances 
are true— at midnight, in October, Captain William 
Paulden, Captain Thomas Pauklen, Lieutenant Aust- 
wick, Cornet Blackburn, and nineteen others prepared 
to leave the Castle. Whiteloek, Dr. Miller, &c, state 
that the company numbered forty, but Captain Thomas 
Paulden, who was in the expedition, and wrote an ac- 
count of the whole circumstances says, it only numbered 
twenty-three, and, surely, he ought to know best. It 
is natural to suppose they would escape from that side 
of the Castle, and follow such a route as was least oc- 
cupied by the besiegers. It was so ; still, even here, 
the Royalists had to pass between two of the enemy's 
horseguards ; but, the night being dark, and the guards, 
it may be, not very watchful, they passed the besiegers' 
lines in safety, and soon struck out into the more 
retired by-paths, so that if even surprised and pursued 
they migat betake them to the adjacent woods. In- 
stead of coming to Doncaster by the highway, they took 
a circuitous route to Mexborough, thus evading the par- 
liamentary scouts. 

And here a question of some interest arises, namely, 
whether they travelled in disguise, or accoutered as 
Royalist soldiers. At the first glance one is tempted to 
infer that they did travel as King's troopers, or why all 
this care to elude the enemy's scouts ? Arriving at 
Mexborough, it is said, they sent a spy on to Doncaster, 
in order to discover whether or not the parliamentary 
officers had notice of their escape from the Castle, or 
were strengthening their guard : he was to meet them 
on his return at Conisborough* under cover of night. 
The spy was evidently directed to some trusty Royalist 
in Doncaster for information. The latter had seen or 
heard nothing which should cause disquietude to the 
skirmishers, and if the town remained quiet this friend 
engaged to send a messenger some distance on the road 
by sun -rise, with a Bible in his hand. In those days 
there was great outward show of godliness, and the 
messenger knew that if even he was met on the road 
at that untimely hour by the parliamentary scouts, they 
would suspect no evil, but esteem him a pious Round- 
head, when they saw that he had a Bible in his hand. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 49 

So it was, the man with the Bible arrived near Conis- 
borough* by break of clay, whereupon the whole band 
crossed the Don by a ford a little below the Castle- 
mound, and proceeded via Sprotborough to Doncaster. 
Why their leader choose this route in preference to the 
open road leading through St . Sepulchre-gate does not 
at first sight appear obvious, because here they would 
come direct upon a strong guard, placed near where the 
House of Grey Friars once stood, besides having to 
encounter the guard on the bridge. Captain William 
Paulden knew well that the whole success of their 
undertaking must depend upon a sudden dash, or rather 
series of surprisals. Had he taken the direct route 
from Pontefract, the scouts would probably have given 
notice of their approach, thus preparing the guard for 
an attack ; the same result would have happened by 
the high road leading to St. Sepulchre-gate : for 
secrecy, therefore, he choose the Low Common in the 
valley of the Don where danger or attack was not 
suspected. 

The account runs that Paulden divided his men into 
four parties, so that they might work in concert without 
exciting any marked attention in the town. Twelve of 
them, in two separate companies, were to cajole, or, if 
need be, rout the mainguard and the guard on the 
bridge ; four were directed to Colonel Eainsborough's 
lodgings, while the remainder six, with Captain Wm. 
Paulden at their head, were to beat about the streets in 



* In what condition was Conisborough Castle at the period 
referred to ? Was it capable of defence, or, even then, a heap 
of ruins ? I think it must have been at this time totally dis- 
mantled. But when was it overthrown? We cannot tell. 
The neighbouring fortress of Tickhill is closely associated with 
the history of the times, but no record have we respecting 
Conisborough Castle in connection with this struggle : it must 
have been dismantled at an earlier period, and so easily 
destroyed as not to have left a tangible record in history of 
its fall. Strong as Conisborough Castle assuredly was, impreg- 
nable as it might be under the early system of warfare, its 
situation would ultimately ensure its destruction, since the 
first effective discharge of hea\y artillery from the neigh- 
bouring heights would inevitably reduce it. Any one who 
gazes for a moment at the site of this fortress, with its closely 
adjacent cliffs towering to a superior height, will easily be con- 
vinced of this fact. 

D 



50 STORIES AXD SKETCHES 

order to prevent any muster of the soldiers from alarm 
or other causes.* 

There is an old adage that ' ' fortune favours the 
brave," and truly the success which attended these bold 
cavaliers was marvellous, even magical. One dash and 
the barricades are stormed, the soldiers throw down 
their arms and escape for their lives. The guard upon 
the bridge fling their weapons into the water and fly. 
The main-guard is surprised by our heroes getting be- 
tweeen the soldiers and their arms. The soldiers, even 
if they were willing, could not fight without their 
weapons ; so they also fly. What flying there is ! 

And all achieved 

By twelve brave men 

After the break of day. 

* I have looked carefully through the hackneyed narratives 
called " Local History," and yet find it difficult to reconcile 
many circumstances therein stated with probability. For in- 
stance, long- after midnight on the 31st of October (that period 
of dark nights), a secret messenger wanders suspiciously to- 
wards Conisborough. But why take a Bible in his hand since 
he could not read on the journey ? It may be answered that 
a hypocritical odour of sanctity showed a zest for the sacred 
records, proved that the Bible was this man's constant com- 
panion, ready in hand for perusal whenever and wheresoveran 
opportunity presented itself. Very good ; but then this tra- 
velling Bible was to be a signal to the Pontefract troopers that 
all was right, which could be no signal to any one in the dark. 
Perhaps it would be moonlight, however, and in a clear moon- 
light nigTit people might easily distinguish, even at a distance, 
such a big book as was the printed Bible of that age. It might 
bo so. What time would the bold adventurers arrive at Don- 
caster? If, as before stated, the royalist messenger met them 
near Conisborough at daybreak, it must have been quite day- 
light before Gaptain Paulden reached the first barricades. But 
this idea receives contradiction in the main circumstances of 
the case. Daylight would have rendered the whole strategem 
inoperative ; the marauders would have been seen, and their 
feebleness estimated before they had opportunity of mak- 
ing an attack. Miller, in his history of Doncaster, states that 
only three of the company entered the town, going in by St. 
Sepulchre-gate, pretending to have despatches from Oliver 
Cromwell to the Commander. According to his meagre and 
unsatisfactory account, the pretended messengers were ordered 
to the Colonel's bedroom, when, instead of a letter the three 
men presented arms, commanding Rainsborough to surrender, 
but as he refused to surrender they killed him ; afterwards 
they had the good fortune to rejoin their companions, when 
all "escaped safely to Pontefract. That three men, single- 
handed, should attempt to carry off Colonel Rainsborough a 
prisoner in the midst of his troops is a project almost exceed- 
ing belief. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 51 

The little band of four now hasten to Colonel Rains- 
borough's lodgings, situate in the Market-place, near 
to where a butter-cross had recently been erected. 
They tell the sentry that they have despatches from 
Cromwell, and must deliver them into the Colonel's 
hand. The commander is informed of their mission, 
and although not yet risen from his bed orders in the 
messengers. But only two enter, escorted by a lieu- 
tenant. Of the remainder one stays in the Court-yard 
to hold the horses ; the other makes his way to the 
guard (but where situate I cannot clearly make out), 
telling the soldiers he waits for his officer who has gone 
with dispatches to the Colonel : he pays for some drink 
and dissipates suspicion. 

While Colonel Rainsborough is opening the mock 
despatch, which proves to be only a packet of blank 
paper, the two royalists possess themselves of his arms 
(the lieutenant, it would appear, had no weapon), then, 
guarding the doorway, they acquaint the Colonel that 
he is their prisoner, order him to dress quickly and 
accompany them, promising good treatment in case of 
obedience. The two Royalists escorted the Roundheads 
to where the horses were in waiting, but Colonel 
Rainsborongh seeing only three men where he expected 
to find an army, naturally refused to be carried off. A 
struggle ensued, during which one of the Royalists 
dropped his sword and pistol. The lieutenant seized 
the pistol and was in the act of discharging it when he 
was run through the body by one of the Royalists. 
Rainsborongh, sword in hand, attempted to fight his way 
into the street, but was soon overpowered and slain. 
The three Royalists now found it advisable to rejoin 
their companions and retreat before the guard, horri- 
fied at the sight of this bloody spectacle, could assemble 
the troops. The stai'tling news soon spread, however, 
and if we may credit home " local historians" it seems 
as if this sudden and sanguinaiw deed had thrown the 
whole vicinity into confusion, as if the Roudhead soldiers 
concluded that a hostile army Avas secretly springing up 
in their midst, for they everywhere fled in disorder, 
while the reorganized band of Royalists, made full forty 
prisoners, and re-entered Pontefract Castle without 
sustaining the slightest loss* 

d 3 



52 STORIES AND SKETCHES 



CALVEKLEY HALL. 

It may be superstition, and it may be foolishness, 
but I have a kindly regard for old things. There is a 
certain companionship in that rude, carved chair, iu 
which some antient grandame sat — sat bolt up-right, 
with head-dress like a pyramid, rising above the tall 
chair-back. Even those tiny bits of china have a 
language of their own. From these some venerable 
ancestors quaffed strong bohea, and talked village scan- 
dal while Queen Anne was curing scrofula with her 
royal touch, and the victorious Marlborough was fight- 
ing and plotting treason. "We may look at the toyish 
things until some picture of the mind begets a smile. 
In imagination we watch the gruff, but honest Dr. 
Johnson gulping his thirteenth dish, and wonder, not 
at the quantity imbibed but at the incongruity of such 
a little vehicle to such a burley nose and capacious 
mouth. Still I always think that the best reflection of 
by-gone ages is given us in old halls, baronial castles, 
manor-houses, and even cottages where remarkable men 
have dwelt. Throughout this great county there are 
quaint, rickety old buildings, which are now preserved, 
as they ought, with scrupulous care, because they are 
associated with the county history. And we love to 
visit these places, because the very walls and timbers 
seem to stamp the old scenes and actors with an air of 
reality. For my part it is impossible to write with in- 
terest about any place which I have never seen, and so 
before telling an old story of a fearful tragedy, the 
place where the act transpired must needs be visited. 

On arriving at Leeds I asked a friend if he knew 
Calverley Hall. Yes, he knew it. Well, would he ac- 
company me as guide ? Certainly, he would. Now, as 
a rule, I am not fond of companions when out on a 
mission of this kind, since they invariably distract 
one's attention by their good humoured twaddle ; but 
as my friend knew Calverley Hall, and the district 
round about, he might, possibly, occupy the position of 
a talking gazette : I was therefore very thankful for his 
assistance. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 53 

The hills which rise up from Airedale, on each side 
of the river, are studded with " clothing villages," 
uniform stone cottages cluster round plain stone fac^ 
tories in the proportion of about forty houses to a mill, 
whence, on all hands, issue the whirring sounds of the 
spinning-jenny or mule, the clicking of hand-looms, 
and strong aromatic smells. Midway between Leeds 
and Bradford, on the very top of the ridge, stands the 
village of Calverley, whither we are bound. 

Alighting at the railway station, we pursued our 
course through green fields until we reached a fine 
molern house, standing by itself in ornamental grounds, 
at a respectable distance from all meaner dwellings : 
this, my companion said, was Calverley Hall. But it 
was certainly not the Calverley Hall I had come to see — 
not so antient a building by at least three centuries. 
My friend knew no other Calverley Hall, and I began 
to entertain a doubt whether every relic of the old 
place was not obliterated. Just at this moment two 
young men passed us, and, on being questioned, said 
this was Calverley House, but that the old hall stood 
near to a public-house, in the very centre of the village. 
Of course we went to the Calverley Arms, certain of 
getting there a little refreshment, hopeful also of gain- 
ing some information. After bringing in the " shandy- 
gaff" [ale and ginger beer mixed] the landlord was 
ready and willing to give us any local information. 
But he must sit to it, for so fat was he that it seemed 
a piece of severe physical labour to talk, while, at every 
respiration, was heard a kind of whistling sound — -quite 
a shrill whistle, and though the burly breast panted, 
there was an air of manifold importance in his grave, 
fatherly face. He had lived here above forty years, 
but could not remember any of the old family : and 
then he proceeded slowly to give us a disconnected ac- 
count in which the names of Lady Blackett, the Thorn- 
hills, Standsfields, &c, received clue homage. 

But I was impatient to see the old Hall. A young 
man, who appeared to be son to the landlord, pointed 
us to a narrow " ginnel," saying that when we got to 
the end of that we must inquire for John Marshall, who 
occupied the chief part of the Hall. 



54 STORIES A.KD SKETCHES 

Truly, without such minute directions a stranger 
might overlook the old edifice altogether, for it is so 
surrounded with cottages, and being itself divided into 
three or four tenements, and used partly for cloth 
manufacture, the associations are mean and common- 
place . On a closer inspection, the thick irregular stone- 
walls, the quaint gables, and the square, heavy mul- 
lioned windows are acknowledged evidences of antiquity. 
A flight of stone steps outside lead to the central hall, 
and here through the open door we could see the end of 
a spinning-j enny, and large skeps of weft. And this is 
Calverley Hall ! Mean and insignificant in comparison 
with modern mansions, humble in comparison with the 
lordly castellated mansions of its own age, still not 
without pretensions to comfort at a period when the 
straggling landed proprietors had little refinement and 
plenty of leisure. Here, and in some earlier building, 
occupying probably the same site, the Calverley family 
had lived for upwards of five centuries. But who were 
the Calverleys, and how did they gain possession of 
these estates? A Lacy, as we know, received this 
great slice of Yorkshire from the Conqueror, and the 
first grantee from him appears to be one Alphonsus 
Gospatricii. Landrino, daughter of this man, married 
a household steward of the Empress Maud, and evidently 
resided here, for about the middle of the twelfth cen- 
tury a son was born to them, who was known as Walter 
de Calverley, and was probably the first who assumed 
that name. 

It were surprising if a family could live for five hun- 
dred years, and more, on the old ancestral soil without 
leaving to succeeding ages some memento of its his- 
tory. Yet there are such families of whom it may be 
said, we know their genealogy and possessions but 
nothing more. The Calverleys have preserved their 
name from oblivion by one of the most dreadful tragedies 
which Yorkshire can record. 

An account of the whole circumstances, and some- 
thing more, from the pen of a contemporary Grub-street 
writer has been preserved. The narrative, although 
exceedingly prolix, abounding in wordy declamation, 
Contains many passages of great natural pathos, and is 
altogether curious considered as a waif of that age when 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 55 

Shakspeare and the lesser dramatists were moulding 
our crude English literature : — 

Maister Caverley's unnaturall and bloudie 
mdrther committed uppon his wlfe and prac- 
TICED upon his Children. 

There hath happened of late, within the countye of 
York, not farre from "Wakefield, a murther, of so do 
testable sort, that were it not that it deserves record for 
example's sake, humanity could wish it rather utterly 
forgot, than any Christian heart should tremble with 
the remembrance of it. 

Within this county was bread a gentleman,, one Mr. 
Caverley, of Caverley, a man whose parents were such 
as left him seven or eight hundred pounds a year to en- 
rich his hopes, cherish his content, and make him for- 
tunate. His father dying before he had reacht the 
years of privilege, during his nonage he was ward to a 
most noble and worthy gentleman in this land, in all 
which time his course of life did promise so much good, 
that there was a commendable gravity appeared even in 
his youth. He being of this hope, virtuous in his life 
and worthy by his birth, was sought unto by many gal- 
lant gentlemen to unite his fortune unto their families, 
by matching himself to one and the chief of their 
daughters. Among which number it happened that 
being once invited (a welcome guest) to an antient 
gentleman of chiefe note in his country, he came, where, 
in short time there was such interchange of affection 
by two paire of eyes to one pair of hearts, that this 
gentleman's best beloved daughter was, by private as- 
surance, made Maister Caverley's best beloved wife ; 
nor could it be kept so close between this pair of lovers 
(for love will discover itself by loving looks) but it came 
to the father's knowledge, who, with natural joy, was 
contented with the contract, yet, in regard to Maister 
Caverley's years, could not discharge the charge his 
honourable guardian had over him. The father thought 
it meet (though the lovers could have wished it other- 
wise) to lengthen their desired haste, till time should 
furnish a fit house to solemnise their happy wedlocke. 

Mr. Caverley having spent some time there in decent 
recreation, much abroad, but more at home with his 
new mistress, at last he bethought himself that his long 
stay made him looked for in London ; and having pub- 
lished his intended departure, the father b h ought it con- 
venient, though the vertuous gentlewoman danced a 
" loth to depart" upon his contracted lips. 



56 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

Maister Caverley came to London, where, concealing 
his intended contract from his honourable guardian, or 
forgetting his promise and publicise vows, or boath, I 
know not, but time, mother of alterations, had not 
fanned over many daies but he had made a new bar- 
gaine, knit a new marriage knot and was husband by all 
matrimonial rites, to a courteous gentlewoman, and 
niece, by marriage, to that honourable personage to 
whom he was ward. Rumour, with his thousand 
tongues, and ten thousand feet, was not long before he 
had delivered his detested messuage to his first niais- 
teriss's ears, who, looking for more loving commenda- 
tions, and having heard but part of that as truly as it 
was, the winde of her sighs so raised up the tide of her 
tears, that she clipped the report, ere it could be told 
out, into many pieces. And as she would still faine 
have asked this question, "is it so indeed" she was 
faine to make up the distracted sillables of her words 
with the letters of her eyes. 

This gentlewoman, Maister Caverley's wife, (if vows 
may make a wife) tooke with an inward consideration 
so to heart this unjust wrong, that, exercising her houres 
only in continuall sorrow, she brought herself to a con- 
sumption, who so plaied the insulting tyrent over her 
unblemished beautie, that the civile contention dwelt 
in her face of white and redde, was lurried to a death- 
like paleness, and all her artires wherein the spirit of 
life dooth runne, like giddy subjects in the empire of 
her body, greedie of innovation, took such ungentle 
parte with this forreigne userper, that where health be- 
fore was her peaceable soveraigne, now destracted sick- 
nesse and feeble weakness were her untimely con- 
querors. Yet under this yoke of grief she so patiently 
endured, that though she had great reason, for a founda- 
tion whereon she might have built arguments to have 
curst his proceedings, and where others would have con- 
trasted sillables -both of reproach and reproofe against 
him, she only married these letters together. " I en- 
treat of God to grant both prosperous health and fruit- 
ful wealth to him and his, though I am sicke for his 
sake. 

But to Maister Caverley, who having finished this 
wrong to this gentlewoman, and begunne to marke dis- 
tresse to her that he married (as to soon it appeared) for 
though the former conquered by the gentleness of her 
nature, forgave his faults, yet revenge being in God's 
hand, thus it fell. This gentleman had not lived many 



KELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 57 

months with his wife but was so altered in disposition 
from that which he was, and so short from the perfec- 
tion which he had, as a body dying is of a life flourish- 
ing ; and as before he only studied the relish of vir- 
tue and her effects, his actions did now only prac- 
tice the unprofitable fruites of vice and her fruits. 
For though he was a man of so good a revenew as be- 
fore, he continued his expense in such unfeeling riots 
that he was forced to mortgage his land, run into great 
debts, entangle his friends by being bound for him, and 
in time so weakened his estate, that having not where- 
withal! to carry that port which before he did, he grew 
into a discontent that so swaid in him he would sit sul- 
lenly, walke melancholy, he thinking with such steddy 
looks nailed to the ground, seem astonisht ; when his 
wife would come to desire the cause of his sadnesse, and 
entreat to be unwilling partner in his sorrows, for 
" Consortium rerum omnium intemamfacit amicitiam," 
he would either sit still without giving her any answer, 
or rising uppe depart from her with these words, " a 
plague upon thee, thou art the cause of my sadnesse." 
The gentlewoman, which no doubt this report is true of 
her, never so much as in thought offended him, and 
having been sundrie times curst without a cause, once 
came unto him, and making her tears parley with her 
words, she thus entreated him, " SirMaister Caverley, 
I beseech you by the mutual league of love that is be- 
twixt us, by the vows we made together both before and 
after our marriage, and by that God that registers our 
thoughts, tellme what I have done, the remembrance of 
which should affect you, or what I might do that I 
might content you, as you desire that the three lovely 
boys that you have been father to should grow up and 
make your nature live in the country, acquaint me with 
your griefs, and what a wife can show to manifest her 
love to her husband shall be done by me." 

" Maister Caverley, fixing himself with a steddie eie 
upon her, at last delivered this — "I want money and 
thou must help me." 

" O, Maister Caverley," quoth she, "though God and 
yourself know that I am no cause of your want, yet 
what I have to supply you with either in money, or 
jewels, or rings, I pray you take ; and I beseech you as 
you are a gentleman, and by the love you should bear to 
your children, though you care not for me, looke back a 
little into your estate, and restraine this great flood of 
your expense before your house be utterly overthrown. 



58 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

You must know, Sir, that your land is mortgaged al- 
ready, yourself otherwise greatly in debt, some friends 
that are bound for you likely to be undone :" but as she 
would have gone forward he cut her short with these 
words, " base strumpet (whom though I married I never 
loved) shall my pleasure be confined to your will? if you 
and your bastards be in whant, either beg or retire to 
your friends, my humour shall have the ancient scope. 
The rings and jewels will I sell, and as voluntarie spend 
them as when I was in the best of my estate." 

The good gentlewoman's eyes being drawn full of 
tears, with these wordes, made him no other answer but 
this, "Sir, your will be done." But he fled on in this 
vehemence of bloud, "I protest by heaven that 1 will 
ever hereafter loathe thee till thou give thy consent that 
thy dowrie shall be sold to maintaine my pleasure, and 
leave thyself and children destitute of maintinance." 
" Sir," answered she, " in all this I will be a wife ; 
what in all this the law will allow me to doe, you shall 
command." "See thou dost it," quoth he, "for no 
longer than I am full of money shalt thou take from 
me a taste of kindness." Mrs. Caverley going forward 
with this intent to sell away her dowrie, was sent up to 
London by that honourable friend whose niece she was, 
and whose ward she had been, who had heard of her 
husband's prodegall course, at her coming up began to 
question her about his estate, and whether he bore him 
as a husband should do in famelear love to her. The 
gentlewoman, she knew how desperate his estate was, 
and her tongue too well could have told her of his un- 
kindness, she answered both thus, " for my husband's 
estate I make no doubt but it is in the same height his 
father left it him_ ; but for our love to one and other I 
am assured, and I praise heaven for it, that we love like 
Abraham and Sarah, he loving me and I obedient to 
him. 

"Howsoever," answered this honourable friend, 
"your words are an ornament which a good wife should 
have, and you seek to shadow the blemishes his actions 
have cast upon his life, let this suffice you, I know of his 
prodegall course, I know how his land is all or most part 
of it morgaged, himself in debt to many. Yet censuring 
these infirmities to proceed from no other cause but 
from the rash heart of youth, will in time no doubt be 
supprest by experience, and for that I believe your 
words to be true, and am glad to hear of his kindness 
toward you, I will take such order for him as he shall 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 59 

continue Maister Caverley in the same degree or better 
than ere his ancestors were in Yorkshire ; and at your 
return so certifie to him withall that he hasten up to the 
court, nor let the fear of his creditors abridge his com- 
ing up, for I will protect him both from them and also 
provide some place at court for him, wherein he shall 
find I am his honourable kinsman." 

The good gentlewoman was struck with joy at this 
comfortable promise that she was scarce able to speak 
out her delightful thanks ; and thinking her husband 
would be no doubt satisfied with this preferment, 
hoping that kindness would be contracted between 
them again, assuring herself that there would now be 
no need to make sale of her dowrie,) for that was also a 
part of the business) ; having taken leave of her 
honorable kinsman, she returned towards Caverley. 

During this her absence Maister Caverley maintained 
his accustomed habits, and indeed grew worse ; for 
mischiefe is of that nature that it cannot stand but by 
strengthening one will with another, and so multiplied 
in itselfe untill it comes to the highest, and then falls 
with its own weight. So Maister Caverley being given 
to excesse, rioting, as diceing, drinking, revelling, and it 
is feared other things, and it is thought fed one will 
with another in such continuall use that his bodie was 
not in temper with the exercise of sinne ; who knows 
not as Sine Cerere et Baccho friget Venus : so without 
money pleasure shall hardly be mantained. And this 
gentleman having made wreck of his estate, and finding 
himself not to mantain his pleasure when his desire was 
as great as before, (for pleasure being once delightfull 
to the memorie is as hard to be resisted as madness), 
first fell in a hatred with his wife, and in this her 
absence to such a loathing of his children ; and in what 
company soever he happened to be he could not contain 
his rage, but would openly proclaim his wife was a 
strumpet, his children were bastards ; and although 
their marriage was made by honourable persons, herself 
nobly descended, from the first hour he imbraced her to 
that very minute he did loathe her. Some would 
mildly perswade him from this friensie, others would 
courteously reprove him, saying it was not fitte, and all 
whose modestie thought it unmeete to meddle between 
man and wife, knowing her vertuous life, did utterly 
condemn him. But he continuing this publication in all 
places where he came ; &t one, among the number, there 
happened to be a gentleman who having known his 



60 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

wife from her cradle, and seeing him so wilde in his 
abuce, prepared himself confidently to contradict him, 
and having begunne his speech of chastisement, the 
other, not enduring to be detected, both soone inflamed 
fell to quarrellous termes, and in such haste that 
Maisfcer Caverley did not spare to say that he might 
be his wife's friend for ought he knew, nay, thero 
was great presumption for it, since bee should be so 
easily stirred up to take his wife's part. The gentle- 
man not enduring to hear her reputation, but especially 
his own to be touched, so answered Maister Caverley, 
and again Maister Caverley him, that they agreed to 
purge themselves in the field ; both met, and after 
some thrustes, channged betweene them, Maister 
Caverley was hurt, yet would not give over, so that 
afterward he became at the gentleman's mercie, but 
he of that humane condition not to desire his life, 
nor so much blood as was, had he not been urged, bad 
him rise, and left him with these words, " Maister 
Caverley, you are a gentleman of an antient house, much 
good has been expected from you, deceive not men's 
hopes, you have a virtuous wife, be kind to her, I forget 
my own wrong, and continue your friend." But Maister 
Caverley, unsatisfied with this, his heart flew to his 
mouth as if it would have leapt out after him for re- 
venge, yet knowing he could get little by following him 
but hurts such as he had already, prepared to turn his 
wrath another way. Then looking upon his wounds and 
seeing them bleed, said to himself, "Strumpet, thou 
art the cause that I bleed now, but I will be the cause 
that thou shalt bleed after ; so taking his horse rode 
presently home, where, before his wounds were 
thoroughly cured, his wife was come from London, 
and the first greeting given by her husband was, 
""What, hast thou brought me the money? is the land 
sold?" She answered, "Sir, I have made a journey 
that shall redound both to your comlort and mine." So 
acquainting him with the presidencie which was his 
promised preferment by her kinsman, and expecting a 
loving acceptance, the first thankes he gave her was by 
a spurne ; and looking upon her as if his eyes would 
have shot fire into her face, " Have you beene to Lon- 
don to make complaint of me, you strumpet," quoth he, 
"that the greatness of your friends might oversway the 
weakness of my estate ? And I that have lived in that 
ranke of will that I have done, that freedom of pleasure 
shall forsake me now? Shall I being a Calverley of 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 61 

Calverley, stoop my thoughts so low to attend on the 
countenance of your alliance, to order my thoughts by 
their direction, and neither doe nor undoe anything but 
what they list, which if I refuse to doe your complaints 
have so wrought with them, and you have so possessed 
them of my estate, they will enforce me forsooth for 
your good and the good of my children ; was this your 
trick to save your dowrie? that which I swore you 
should sell, was this your going to London ?" 

The good gentlewoman being almost blown to death 
with this vehemence of his wrath, fell at his feet, and 
desired him to heare her, when poor soule, she was so 
full of grief she had not the power to speak ; yet having 
cased the way with a few of sorrow's drops, she began 
to plead this fine excuse with him, that like one that 
had lost his senses, had scarce patience to hear her ; 
" Sir," said she, " heaven knows that the words I speak 
have no fashion of untruth ; my friends are truly pos- 
sessed that your lands are morgaged ; they know to 
whom and for what, but not by me, I beseech you be- 
lieve ; and for any difference betwixt yourself and me, 
which I doubt not would offend more than the morgag- 
ing of your land, I protesb yet hath no reason to suspect ; 
if you think I have published anything to him with 
desire to keep the sale of my dowrie from you, either 
for my good or my children's, though it fits I should 
have a motherly care of them, you being my husband, 
pass it away from you how you please, spend it how you 
will, so I may enjoy welcome lookes and kind wordes 
from you ; and when all which you call yours is gone, 
ere you and yours shall want I will worke for your main- 
tinence, neither of which extremities, Sir, need, if you 
please, if you will but accept preferment in England's 
court, being offered to you gratis, which many men 
would purchase with cost and cannot compasse." At 
which words, though mildly uttered, and on her humble 
knees, he was so without cause enraged that had not 
one of his men come up in the instant and told him 
there was a gentleman from one of the universities 
staid to speak with him he had offered her some vio- 
lence. 

Maister Caverley went clown to talk with this gentle- 
man, leaving his wife stuffed with grief up to the eye-lids, 
and she, good soule, having ceased her grief by a sigh or 
two, laid her down upon her bed, where in careful slum- 
bers we will leave her, and attend the conference betwixt 
Maister Caverley and this gentleman. Maister Caverley 



62 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

had at this present a second brother who was of good 
standing in the university, who upon some extremity 
Maister Caverley was in, for so he would plead himself 
to ibe his friend, when he would have them bound for 
him, had passed his bond with his brother for a thousand 
pounds ; this bond was forfeited, suied, and this young 
gentleman being reputed of staied government, the exe- 
cution was served upon him, and he is at this instant 
prisoner for his brother's debt. About this business 
came this gentleman to Maister Caverley, who being 
master of the college wherein his brother had his in- 
struction, and having ever noted his forward will in the 
exercise of vertue, in pitty unto his estate, being moved 
thereunto by the young student, came purposely thither, 
who without long circumstance told Maister Caverley 
the cause of his coming was to stirre up his conscience 
to have regard to his brother for he heard he was care- 
lesse, and indeed dwelt so sharply and forcibly in laying 
open to hini what scandal the world would throw upon 
him, what judgment from God should fall upon him for 
suffering his brother to spend the glory of his youth, 
which is the time young men of hope seek preferment, 
in prison by his means, did so harrowe up his soule by 
his invincible arguments that in that minute he made 
him look back into the error of his life, which scarce in 
his life he had done till this instant. 

The gentleman having spoke his mind asked him what 
he meant to do with his brother, for he now waited his 
answer. Maister Caverley made him this mild reply, 
"Sir, I thanke you both for your pains and good in- 
struction tome in my brother's behalf e, and I must 
confess I have done him wrong." So calling for a cup 
of beere he drank to him and bade him welcome ; " now 
Sir, quoth Maister Caverley, if you please to walko 
downe and see the grounds about my house one of my 
men shall go along with jo'cl, at your return I will give 
sufficient answer that my brother by you shall be satis- 
fied, and be a prisoner but a few hours." 

The gentleman thanked him, and told him that in 
performing that naturall office, he should both gratifie 
God, satisfie the Avorld, and he himself should account 
his paines profitable. 

This stranger is gone to walk with one of Maister 
Caverley's men to overview his ground, and Maister 
Caverley retires himself into a gallery, where being alone 
he fell into a deep consideration of Ids state, how his 
prodegall course of life had wronged his brother, abused 



RELATING TO YOJEtKSHIftE. 63 

his wife, and undone his children, and the misery he 
should leave his children in. Then he saw what an un- 
naturall part it was his brother should lie in prison for 
his debt and he not able to deliver him. Then he saw 
that his wife being nobly descended, unless her own 
friends took pitty upon her, should with his children 
be driven to beg remorce of the world which is all com- 
posed of flint. Then he saw the exterpation of his 
family, the ruin of his house, which hundreds of years 
had been gentlemen of the best reputation in Yorkshire, 
and every one of these out of their severall objects did 
create severall distraction in him. Some time he would 
tear his hair, and by and by tears would rash into his 
eyes, strait break out into the exclamation, " Oh I am 
the most wretched man that ever was born of a woman ! 
Oh, that I had been slayne in my mother's wombe, and 
rny mother had been my sepulchre ! I have begot my 
children to be nothing but wretchedness, made a wife to 
eat her bread in bitterness, and a brother to be full of 
care. 

As he was thus tormented by the remembrance of his 
own folly, his eldest son, being a child of about four 
years old, came into the gallery to scourge his toppe, 
and seeing his father stand in a study, came prettily 
uppe to him, saying " How do you do, father?" which 
lovely look and gentle question of the child, raised 
again the remembrance of the distresse he should leave 
him in. And as the sea being hurled into furious bil- 
lows by the raging of the winds, hides both heaven and 
earth from the eyes of man, so he, being overwhelmed 
by the violence of his passion, all naturall love was for- 
gotten in his remembrance, caught his child up by his 
neck, and striking at him with his dagger, the child 
lent him such a looke that would have driven a hand 
seven yeare practice to murder, to an ague : yet hee 
oh, would it had never been done, it might never have 
been told : though his arm seemed twice to remember 
him of the monstrousness of the fact, he strook the 
lovely infant into the head, and holding the bleeding 
child at armes length, that it might not sprinkle his 
clothes, which had stained his hart and honor, he so 
carried it into aneare chamber, where his wife lay asleep 
upon a bed, and the maide was dressing another child 
by the fire, (here is to be noted his other child was at 
nurse) ; but the woman seeing him come in that ci'uell 
sort — his child in one hand, his reeking dagger in the 
other, the child bleeding, he staring — started from the 



64 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

fire, and, with the child in her armes, cried out, but he, 
letting go the boy he had wounded, caught the other 
violently out of her amies, and this chamber doore be-' 
ing at the toppe of a very high pair of stairs, carried her 
forth by raaine strength, and threw the poor woman 
down to the bottom, who in tender pitty, by president 
of the one would have preserved the other. 

The child that was wounded was all this while crying 
in the chamber, and with this woefull noise wakened 
his woefull mother who seeing one child bleeding, the 
other lying on the ground (while he strove to throw the 
maide down stairs), she caught up the youngest, and 
going to take the elder, which was going toward the 
the door, her husband coming back met her, and came 
to struggle with her for the child, which she sought to 
preserve with words, tears, and whatever a mother 
could doe, from so tragical an end. And when he saw 
he could not get it from her, he, most remorceless stab- 
bed at it three or four times, all which she saved the 
child from, by taking it to herself ; and having a pair of 
whalebone boodice on, it pleased God his dagger so 
glanced on them, that she had got but one wound on 
her shoulder. But he, more crewel by this resistance, 
caught hold of the child in his mother's armes, and stabs 
it in the heart, and after giving his wife two or three 
mortall wounds she fell backward, and the child dead 
at her feet. 

The maide that was thrown downe stairs, with the 
greatness of the fall, the staires being high, lay in a 
swound at the bottome ; the noise of this brought the 
servants to help the maide, thinking that she had fell 
by mischance (not knowing that which was most tyra- 
nous) did their best to comfort her beneath, while the 
father and mother were striving, one to preserve the in- 
fant, the other to kill it. 

The child that was first wounded sought to get to the 
doore, and having recovered the top of the staires (by 
expense of blood, and the greatness of the wound), hav- 
ing nobody to comfort it, fell alsoe downe the staires ; 
and the armes of the servants helping the maide at the 
staires foote, were faine to let her go to receive him. 
Some caught at the dead infant, some helped the maide ; 
all amazed at this tragick alteration, knew not what to 
think ; yet one of the men more hardy than the rest 
ranne up stairs and met his maister in the chamber, 
where he saw his mistreess lie on the ground, and her 
dead infant at her feete, and saying to him, "OSir, 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 65 

what have you done T " That which I repent not of 
knaive," answered he ; and having his dagger still in his 
hand, came to stab at bin), but the fellow seeking to 
defend himself, as alsoe to attack his maister, they both 
fell a struggling. Maister Caverley, which was known 
before, was a man of weak constitution, was in the 
strife too hard for the fellow, who was reputed of a very 
able body, and in the wrestling together did so tear him 
with the roweles of his spurs, both in the face and legs, 
that there he left him, not being able to follow him. 

Maister Caverley, went downe staires, and presently 
took toward the stable ; by the way he met the gentle- 
man (who had told him about his brother being in pri- 
son) who before was walking in his grounds, who, won- 
dering to sea him in such a heat, asked, "What aile 
you, Sir?" he answered, " No great matter ; but Sir, I 
will resolve you within, where I have taken order for 
my brother's business." Soe the gentleman walked in, 
and Maister Caverley hasted to the stable, where find- 
ing a gelding ready saddled, backed him, and fled away 
presently. The gentleman coming in was entertained 
Avith outcries and shriekes, the mother for the children, 
(for by this time she was almost recovered,) the men- 
servants at their doleful mischance, and all lamenting 
that a father should be soa unnaturall. The gentleman 
doubting that which was of Maister Caverley's escape, 
left all the house, making elegies of sorrow, and betook 
himself to his pursuit, and having forthwith raised the 
town, and heard which way he went, followed him with 
the quickest haste. Maister Caverley being well horst, 
spurred on as fast as they, not earnest to escape, but 
thirsty for more blood ; for having an infant, half a year 
old, at nurse some twelve miles off, he, pricked by his 
preposterous fate, had a desire to root out all his gene- 
ration, and only intent to murder it, was careless what 
became of himself. He rode hard for an act of sin, and 
they for an act of justice. But God that ordereth the 
losse of a realme, hath then a care for his reasonable 
creatures ; and though Cain was suffered to kill his bro- 
ther Abel, God bound him not to destroy him. So far 
Maister Caverley, as God permitted the sin to blush at 
his unnaturall acts, yet he suffered him not to escape 
without his revenge, for when he was at the townes end, 
within a bow shot where the child sucked that he came 
to murther, and his hart had made sharp his knife to 
cut his own infant's throat, (Oh, God, how just thou 
art,) his horse that flew with him from his former tra* 
gedie, as appointed by God, to tie him from any more 

E 



66 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

guilt, and to preserve his infant's life, in a plaine ground 
where there was scarce a pebble to resist his haste, his 
horse fell downe, and Maister Caverley under him. 

The horse got up, and breaking from the hold his 
master had to stay him, ranne violentlie toward the 
towne, leaving Maister Caverley not able to stir from 
thence, where he was sooon overtaken by the pursuit, 
and indeed, ceased on by those who did both lament his 
fate and pitty his folly. From thentfe he was carried to 
aworshipfull gentleman's, one Sir John Savile, who 
having heard the tempest of this evil, and knowing from 
what ancestors he had sprung, did bewail his fate, yet 
being in the office of justice, he was forced to ask him 
the cause that made him so monstrouse. He being like 
a strumpet made impudent by his continuance in sinne, 
made this answer ; '* I have done that Sir, I rejoice at, 
and repent this, that I killed not the other. I had 
brought them to beggary, and am resolved, I could not 
please God better than by freeing them from it." " Oh, 
Sir," answered that worshipfull Knight, " you have 
done so much that when you yourself think upon the 
terrour of death, the remembrance of this will make you 
wish you had never been borne." But his hart being 
hardened, he was from thence committed to one Maister 
Key's house, a gaile but lately built up in Wakefield— 
for at this time the infection of the plague was very 
violent in Yorke. ... It was not long before he 
came to Key's house ; he was not long there, but the 
memorie of his children sate in his eyes, so that for the 
one he repented all the day, and for the other lamented 
all the night ; nor can the pen of the divinest poet ex- 
press half the grief in words, that he concieved in hart. 
For whereas before he told Sir J ohn Saville, he was glad 
he had rid the world of beggars, he now employed his 
houres in these wordes, " I would I had these beggars, 
either I to beg with them, or they to ask heaven's almes 
for me." 

This ill-fated lady eventually recovered from her 
wounds ; her husband was soon after removed to YorK, 
where he was tried, but refusing to plead either guilty 
or not guilty, (by so doing he saved the estates from 
forfeiture), he was sentenced to be pressed to death, 
and this was done in the Castle at York, August 5th, 
1605. 

The real facts of the case may be stated in a few 
words. Walter Calverley, of Calverley, was left early 
without parental control, to such supervision only as a 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 67 

distant guardian could exercise. In process of time he 
married the daughter of Sir John Brooke, who bore him 
three sons. But he grew into a confirmed libertine. 
He incurred debts with a prodigal wilfulness, mortgaged 
the estate, and induced his nearest friends to become 
surety for large amounts. Want and dishonour menaced 
him. In a very few years the once bountiful estate of 
Calverley stared at him like a spectral shadow, while 
inward conviction pointed to an outcast's life . Woe and 
ruin threatened. Meantime as the struggle became 
fiercer to maintain a footing on the old ancestral sod, he 
gave his mad passions a yet looser rein ; all this time 
treating his wife and children with the crudest neglect 
and scorn. 

And yet that good and virtuous woman loved him ; 
would have given her life to save him. At his demand 
she went to sell her dowry. On arriving at London she 
found that her guardian knew well how her husband's 
affairs stood ; but that gentleman, having influence at 
Court, promised that a lucrative government situation 
should be offered to Walter Calverley. Honourable em- 
ployment, however, was not what he desired, but pre- 
sent cash, and on his wife's return, presenting the offer, 
his disappointment and chagrin knew no bounds. About 
this time a messenger came to say that his brother was 
arrested on a bond entered into on the brother's behalf. 
And then the devil seems to have got entire possession 
of Walter Calverley's soul, for seeing his eldest son, a 
boy little more than four years old, he stabbed him re- 
peatedly with his dagger until he was quite dead. Then 
holding the gory corpse at arms length to prevent the 
blood saturating his clothes, the infuriated man rushed 
to his wife's chamber, where a maid was dressing the 
second child. The mother, awakened by the noise, and 
seeing the dread purpose in her husband's eye, clasped 
to her breast the living child ; but all in vain, the de- 
mon father stabbed it in her arms, and aimed to kill his 
wife. Afterwards he took horse for a house in the vil- 
lage where his third child was at nurse ; but the ser- 
vants were now thoroughly aroused, and overtook their 
master in time to prevent another murder. A concourse 
of people soon surrounded and arrested the infuriated 
wretch, carrying him before Sir John Saville, of How- 

E 3 



68 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

ley, and Sir Thos. Bland. The following copy of the 
depositions taken on that occasion has been published : — 

The Examination of Walter Calverley, in the West 
Hiding of the Cotinty of York, Esq., taken before Sir 
John Saville, of Howley, also Sir Thos. Blande, Knight, 
two of his Majesties Justices of the Peace, the 24th 
April, 1605. 

Being examined whether he did kill two of his own 
children, the name of the one thereof was William and 
the other Walter, saith that he did kill them both at his 
own house at Calverley, yesterday, being the 23rd day 
of April aforesaid. Being further examined what moved 
him to wound his wife yesterday, to that he said that 
one Carver going into the chamber where he was with 
his said wife he commanded her to will the said Carver to 
go and fetch another son of his whose name is Henry 
Calverley who was nursed by the said Carver's wife 
which she accordingly did, whereupon the said Carver, 
went into the court and stayed there about a quarter of 
an houre, and returned again, but brought not the said 
child with him, and being commanded to go downe 
again, he refused so to doe, and that therefore he did 
wound his wife, if she be wounded. 

And being further examined what he would have 
done to the said childe if Carver had brought him ; to 
that he said he would have killed him also, and being 
likewise examined whether at any time he had any in- 
tention to kill his said children, to that he said that he 
hath had an intention to kill them for the whole space 
of two years back and the reasons that moved him 
thereunto was that his said wife had many times there- 
tofore uttered speeches and given signes and tokens unto 
him whereby he might easily perceive and conjecture 
that the said children were not by him begotten, and 
that he hath found himself to be in danger sundry times 
by his wife. 

Waltee Calverley. 
John Saville. 

Cap' Coram. Tho. Bland. 

Walter Calverley was committed to York Castle, there 
to await his trial ; but the plague was then raging at 
York, so, whether from a generous consideration to the 
prisoner's health, or because the constables were them- 
selves frightened to proceed thither, the murderer was 
eventually remitted to the "new jail at Wakefield.' 



KELATING TO YOKKSHIRE. 69 

On his trial he maintained a sullen silence, refusing to 
plead guilty or not guilty, thereby saving his estate 
from confiscation ; but he was condemned to be pressed 
to death, which sentence was executed on the 5th of 
August, 1605. It is said that his remains were secretly 
interred within the family vault of Calverley, but, as 
might be expected, there is no record of such interment. 
The parish register has the following notice : — 

"Buried April 1605, William and Walter sonnes of 
Walter Calverley Esq." 

The mother of these boys, who was so grossly slan- 
dered by her brutal husband, recovered from her wounds, 
and with her sole surviving son, Henry, lived for many 
years afterwards. Walter, son to this Henry, was 
knighted by Charles II. in consideration of his father's 
loyalty, and the sufferings he had endured in those 
troublous times. He married the daughter of Henry 
Thompson, of Esholt, and thus attached another splendid 
property to the ancestral estate. The next Sir Walter 
appears to have cherished dislike both to the name and 
neighbourhood of Calverley. He removed to Willing- 
ton, in the county of Northumberland, took the name 
of Blackett, and in 1745 sold Calverley to Thos. Thorn- 
hill, Esq., of Fixby, and the Esholt estate, on which his 
father had built a capital mansion, to Robt. Stansfield, 
Esq., of Bradford. It seems a matter of surprise that, 
although he severed all connection while living with the 
place where his forefathers had dwelt for about five 
centuries, that his remains should be brought here for 
interment. Thus it did happen, however, as the follow- 
ing inscription of a monument in Calverley Church will 
testify :— 

Near this place lies the body of 

Sir Walter Blackett, 

Of Wallington in the county of 

Northumberland Bart 

Who died Feby 14th 1777 aged 69 years. 

In 1608 appeared in print " A Yorkshire Tragedy, 
not so new as lamentable and true," and the name of 
Shakspeare appears on the title-page as author. This 
short tragedy had previously been acted at the Globe 
Theatre, under the direction of Shakspeare. Some 
have stoutly contended that our great national dramatist 



70 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

was really the author, although others, perhaps with 
more truth, attribute it to Haywood, a great play- 
wright of the period. With all deference to some of 
Shakspeare's commentators, and Mr. Steevens in par- 
ticular, I cannot trace the ' ' characteristics" of our great 
bard in this drama. Take the following passage, 
selected at random, as a specimen. : — 

"Wife. — O my repentant husband ! 

Hus.— O my dear soul, whom I too much have 

wrong'd ; 
For death I die, and for this have I long'd. 
"Wipe. — Thou should'st not, be assured, for these 

faults die, 
If the law could forgive as soon as I. 
[The two Children laid out.] 
Hus. — "What sight is yonder ? 
"Wife. — O, our two bleeding boys, 

Laid forth upon the threshold. 
Hus. — Here's weight enough to make a heart-string 

crack. 
O, were it lawful that your pretty souls 

Might look from heaven into your father's eyes, 

Then should you see the penitant glasses melt, 

And both your murders shoot upon my cheeks ! 

But you are playing in the angels' laps, 

And will not look on me, who, void of grace, 

Kill'd you in beggary. 

that I might my wishes now attain, 

1 should then wish you living were again, 
Though I did beg with you, which thing I 

feared. 
O 'twas the enemy my eyes so blear'd ! 
O, would you could pray heaven me to forgive, 
That will unto my end repentant live ! 
Wife. — It makes me even forget all other sorrows, 
And live apart with this. 

But let us glance at the interior of this old hall. A 
decent-looking woman met us at the door, with one child 
in her arms and two or three others paddling by her side. 
Almost before we could speak a request to see the 
building, she appeared to guess the object of our visit, 
and was very assiduous in showing us every place of 
interest. We entered what appears to have been the 
common room, which is very lofty, and from which there 
was access to every part of the building. The ceiling 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 71 

is in much the same state as when the builders left it* 
having never been disfigured with whitewash, and no 
one can look upon the massive fluted joists without 
feeling what a sterling thing is that " heart of oak. " 
Heart of Oak ! — it gains strength and vigour after a 
growth of five centuries, and will further exist in a dry 
and sapless form for a thousand years. A large piece of 
oak panelling, taken from the murder room, has recently 
been fixed so as to form a passage from the outer door 
and to screen the wind. The good woman of the house 
pointed to a dark stain upon one of the panels, saying 
it was the mark of blood, and that no soap and water 
could ever wash it out. 

To the right is a smaller lower room, beautifully 
panelled, and containing an antique chimney piece, 
above which were blazoned the Calverley Arms, but 
which escutcheon had been removed a few years ago to 
oblige the Blacketts, who were anxious that no such 
memorials should remain. We may conjecture from this 
circumstance that had the estate remained in the family 
the whole building itself would have been levelled to 
the ground. The oak panelling here exhibits no signs 
of decay, but has only grown harder and darker with 
age. 

A staircase leads from hence to the murder-room, but 
as it was somewhat dark and narrow we ascended by the 
rough stone steps outside the building into what may be 
called the principal hall. This, the chapel beyond, and 
one or two smaller rooms are all employed in the manu- 
facture of cloth. As before mentioned, a part of the 
panelling has been removed from the murder-room into 
the kitchen, leaving bare the original partition, which 
is simply formed of oak boards overlapping each other in 
a very rude manner. That this was the original par- 
tition is evident from the fact that it is covered with 
paintings of human heads, surrounded with designs of 
the fleur-de-lis, all very roughly executed. 

Half a century ago almost every old hall or manor 
house had its family ghost ; no wonder, therefore, that 
this hall of murders should be specially haunted. 
Richard Birdsall, commonly called Dickey Birdsall, was 
on one occasion "directed" to preach at Calverley Hall, 
where he stayed all night. He says in his journal :- - 



72 STOEIES AND SKETCHES 

"About twelve o'clock I was conducted up one pair of 
stairs into a large room, which was surrounded with an 
oaken wainscot, after the ancient plan ; some packs of 
wool were lying on one side of the room. After my 
usual devotions I laid down to rest. I had net been 
asleep long before I thought something crept up to my 
breast, pressing me much ; I was greatly agitated, and 
struggled hard to awake. In this situation, according 
to the best judgment I could form, the bed seemed to 
swing as if it had been hung in slings, and I was thrown 
out on the floor. When I came to myself I soon got 
on my knees and returned thanks to God that I was not 
hurt, and sought His aid and protection for the future. 
Committing myself to His care, I got into bed the 
second time. After lying for about fifteen minutes, 
reasoning with myself whether I had been thrown out 
of bed, or whether I had got out in my sleep, to satisfy 
me fully on this point I was clearly thrown out a second 
time from between the bedclothes to the floor, by just 
such a motion as before described. I quickly got on my 
knees to pray to the Almighty for my safety, and to 
thank him that I was not hurt. After this I crept under 
the bed to feel if there was anything there, but I found 
nothing. Once more committing my all into His hands, 
where only safety can be found, I got into bed for the 
third time. Just as I laid myself down I was led to ask, 
' Am I in my senses ?' I answered, ' Yes, Lord, if ever 
I had any.' I had not laid above a minute before I was 
thrown out of bed the third time. After this I once 
more crept under the bed to ascertain whether all the 
cords were fast, and examined until I touched all the 
bed posts, but I found all right. This was about one 
o'clock. I now put on my clothes, not attempting to 
lie down any more ; and for six hours I experimentally 
and forcibly felt the truth of these words— " For we 
wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against princi- 
palities and powers, against the rulers of the darkness of 
this world," &c. The reader may probably wonder at 
all this, but I do not ; for although Satan be cast out of 
us, he will perplex and harass us, but beyond his chain 
he cannot go. 

At an early hour I left this house, and have never 
visited it since. I was afterwards told that this very 
house had formerly been the residence of Sir Hugh 
Calverley [a mistake for Walter Calverley], who in the 
reign of King James (as the history of England informs 
us) was tried at York, for the murder of his wife and 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 73 

two children, and standing neuter, was pressed to death 
in the castle. Eeport says that he appeared again, and 
that after some time he was conjured down ; but this re- 
port I give to the reader as I received it, not being 
called upon to hazard an opinion on the subject." 

Mrs. John Marshall said they had lived at the old hall 
six years, but she had never seen "any sperrits, nor 
was any sperrits iver mentioned by the tenants before 
them ;" so we may now fairly conclude that the spirit of 
Bloody Calverley has been effectually "conjured 
down." 

While engaged in scribbling a few remarks my com- 
panion drew a hasty sketch of the ancient building. 
And then we proceeded to catch the train at Apperley 
Bridge about a mile and a half distant, descending one 
of the most precipitous roads I ever beheld. The pros- 
pect all the way, however, is exceedingly beautiful, 
studded as the landscape is with Rawden College, Wood- 
house Grove Schools, and several private residences of no 
mean pretensions. 



74 STORIES AND SKETCHES 



THE HERMIT OP LDTDHOLME, 



Chap. I. is merely an Introduction. 

Of all places in England Hatfield Waste is one least 
adapted for a hermitage. For who is a hermit, and 
what is a hermitage ? A hermit, generally speaking, 
was an old bachelor of pious tastes and indolent habits, 
who habitually neglected his toilette and extemporised 
an easy living on small means. And a lazy life it was. 
Still the hermitage was generally well selected in a pic- 
turesque locality. "Wordsworth says, speaking of a 
wren's nest — 

" The hermit has no finer eye 
For shadowy quietness." 

His cell was in the mountain's side, or his hut was hid- 
den snugly amongst the forest trees. By its side flowed 
the running brook, from which the lonely man might 
quench his thirst, while within easy distance hung the 
clustered nut, or some native wild fruit on the tempt- 
ing bough. The surrounding woods supplied him with 
fuel for his fire, and eke a bit of savoury meat, now 
and then, for his board. In short a hermitage was not 
generally chosen without the hermit having his 
"weather eye" open. Nor was he always so solitary 
as some imagine. Certes, he was not supposed to seek 
society, but society not unfrequently sought him, and 
if a traveller chaneed to call that way, and pay him a 
pop visit, it is true he had to take " pot luck," but who 
so jolly and hospitable as a hermit ? At times he was 
seen in the busy haunts of men. From brooding soli- 
tude issued thoughts and schemes which shook the 
world, and a Peter the Hermit, like a John the Baptist 
from the Wilderness, aroused the nations at his call. 

But hardly any of these conditions apply to the Her- 
mitage of Lindholme. It is difficult to conceive a scene 
of more dreary desolation — a wide, dismally flat, sterile, 
monotonous, inaccessible bog or swamp, without sign or 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 75 

sound of life, except the hare or rabbit running on its 
track, the plaintive cry of the moorfowl to its lost mate 
dying away in the distance, or the voice of the bittern 
shaking the marsh. 

Did there ever live a hermit of Lindholme ? If so, 
what was his character, and what were his pursuits ? 
For centuries past, throughout the Level of Hatfield 
Chase, tradition has perpetuated the name of a recluse 
named William, assigning Lindholme in the centre of 
Hatfield Waste as the place of his abode. Lindholme 
is an elevated track of about sixty acres, in the centre 
of a vast bog, which before the drainage of 1626 would 
be surrounded with water, and even since that period 
could only be approached in excessive drought or severe 
frost. There is evidence that this island contained a 
very ancient hut or cell, and that this hut possessed an 
inhabitant. In 1727, Gr. Stovin, Esq., together with 
the Rev. Samuel Wesley, visited the place, and thq 
former gives the following account of their discoveri: es 

" The people of Hatfield and places adjacant have a 
tradition that on the middle of Hatfield waste there 
formerly lived an ancient hermit who was called William 
of Lindholme ; he was by the common people taken for 
a cunning man or conjuror, but in order to be better in- 
formed, I, accompanied by the Rev. Mr. Sam Wesley 
and others, went to view the place, and after passing 
the morass, found the hermitage or cell situate in the 
middle of sixty acres of firm sandy ground full of pebbles, 
on which was growing barley, oats, and pease. There 
was likewise a well four or five yards deep, full of clear 
spring water, which is very remarkable, because the 
water of the morass is the colour of coffee. Here is 
great plenty of furze bushes, and variety of game, such 
as hares, foxes, kites, eagles, curlews, ducks and geese ; 
there is no house or cottage near it, and but a few old 
oaks, sallows, and birch ; the house is a little stud-bound 
one, and seems ready to fall. At the east end stood an 
altar made of hewn stone, and at the west is the her- 
mit's grave covered with a large free stone that measures 
in length eight foot and a half, in breadth three, and in 
thickness eight [query, eight inches ?], which, with the 
consent of Richard Howlegate, the present inhabitant, 
and the help of levers, we raised up and removed, and 
digging under found a tooth, a scull, the thigh and shin 
bones of a human body, all of a very large size ; we like- 



76 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

wise found in the grave a peck of hemp seed, and a 
beaten piece of copper. It is difficult to imagine how 
such vast stones should be brought, when it's even dif- 
ficult for man or horse to travel over the morass, which 
in some places is four miles across, on which grows an 
odoriferous herb called gale, and a plant named silk or 
cotton grass from its white tuft on the top resembling 
the finest cotton wool ; 'tis supposed before the draining 
the Levels of Hatfield that there was great plenty of 
water by which the great sbones must have been con- 
veyed ; this I think the most probable conjecture." 

Besides the altar and massive gravestone mentioned 
above, which have long since been removed, there are 
two large boulder stones still to be seen, called the 
" thumb-stone" and "little finger stone," which tradi- 
tion says the hermit brought hither, balancing them, 
one on his thumb, the other on his little finger. /Verily 
he had need of great physical strength to have carried 
them in any manner. 

Tradition says that, living all alone in the island, the 
hermit became his own sexton, actually interring himself. 
When his compact with Satan was just terminating, he 
dug a hole under the great stone, which was elevated 
on " slips ;" then, lying down in the grave, pulled the 
block upon himself. 

It is almost certain, therefore, that a man with the 
physical proportions of a giant did reside on the island, 
or such bones would never have been found here. But 
the question again arises — what was the character of this 
recluse ? Was he simply a religious devotee, or a kind 
of Paracelsus, a mortal being endowed with supernatural 
and Satanic powers ? It was commonly supposed that 
solitary fens, and dark, noisome marshes were pecu- 
liarly the abodes of infernal spirits, that these assumed 
tangible forms, and could be handled, tethered, and 
even sold. In the Court Rolls of Hatfield is found a 
plaint, entered during the reign of Edward II, , in 
which Robert de Rotherham charges John de Ithen with 
neglect in not delivering to him at Thorne a certain 
Devil, bound with thongs, for which the said Robert 
agreed to pay threepence halfpenny, having made a 
tender of an Earls-halfpenny to strike the bargain. 
Damages were laid at sixty shillings ; but the Court 
ruled that it had no jurisdiction, on the ground that 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 77 

such transactions were not acknowledged amongst Chris- 
tians. How, not gaining possession of his Devil, the 
plaintiff suffered loss to the extent of sixty shillings, 
does not very clearly appear. Perhaps he calculated 
the demoniacal agency, which would be exercised on his 
behoof, as worth so much money. True, there seems 
a great disproportion between the market price of the 
article (threepence halfpenny) and the large amount 
claimed for breach of contract, although it might be 
urged that not many persons would be willing to accept 
possession at any price. 

It is well to bear in mind how important a part the 
superstition of men has played in the religious develop- 
ment of the world. An unenlightened mind needs some- 
thing actual, visible, sensuous to keep alive its faith in 
unseen realities ; and this demand has ever created its 
supply, "a miracle being faith's most darling child." 
The Devil in particular, used to live in the world on 
very familiar terms with its inhabitants. Though more 
shy of showing his nose in good society after St. Dun- 
stan grasped it with a pair of red-hot tongs, yet he 
was not unfrequently to be seen for generations after- 
wards, until the very dawn of the Reformation. We 
believe the last authentic record of his visible appear- 
ance was to Martin Luther, when the great Reformer 
flung an inkstand at his head. The significance of the 
circumstance attending his final exit has never been 
fully appreciated ; an inkstand sent him out of the 
world. Satan never could survive the use of ink, and 
his visible, personal reign ended with the era of writing 
and printing. 

That William of Lindholme was a remarkable cha- 
racter we may safely assume, even from the peculiar 
circumstances of his lot. Our hermit lived in a swampy 
fortress. Religious asceticism, apart from malevolent 
passions or great crimes, may have induced this self- 
immolation. Abraham deda-Pryme, a local antiqua- 
rian, who was familiar with Lindholme during the 
seventeenth century, puts the hermit before us in a 
very estimable point of view : — 

" Within a humble lonesome cell 

He free from care, and noise does dwell, 



78 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

No pomp, no pride, no cursed strife, 
Disturbs the quiet of his life, 
A truss or two of straw's his bed, 
His arms, the pillow for his head, 
His hunger makes his bread go down 
Although it be both stale and brown, 
A purling brook that runs hard by- 
Affords him drink whene'er he's dry. 
In short a garden and a spring 
Does all life's necessaries bring. 
"What is't the foolish world calls poor ? 
He has enough ; he needs no more ; 
No anxious thoughts corrode his breast, 
No passions interrupt his rest, 
No chilling fear, no hot desire, 
Freezes, or sets his blood on fire, 
No tempest is engendered there, 
All does serene and calm appear, 
And 'tis his comfort when alone, 
Seeing no ill, to think of none, 
He spends each moment of his breath 
In preparations for his death, 
And patiently expects his doom 
When fate shall order ib to come. 
He sees the winged lightning fly 
Through the tempestuous angry sky, 
And unconcern'd its thunder hears, 
Who knows no guilt, can feel no fears." 
Local tradition does indeed assign to this hermit of 
Lindholme a very different character, it is now almost 
universally believed that there was something " un- 
eanny " about him, and dark whispers have been afloat 
that he sold himself to the devil. 0, for the wizard's 
power that we might annihilate a few centuries, and 
conjure up (only in imagination) the man and the cir- 
cumstances of that mysterious age ! 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 79 



Chap. II. — Brings the Hermit to view, and dis- 
closes SOME PARTICULARS RESPECTING HIS MANNER 
OP LIFE. 

It was cold weather, clear but frosty, with thin 
flakes of small snow falling at intervals. The ground 
was hard as rock, all the pools and ditches were hard 
with ice, so that people could travel auywhere in that 
hard winter of 1435. It was only at such a season 
that any pedestrian ventured to traverse many parts of 
Hatfield Chase. But King Frost is a famous Macadam, 
or rather the Vulcan of roadmakers, for he puts a strong 
molten girdle round the earth in a trice . 

A young Isleonian [a denizen of the Isle of Axholme] 
wanted to see the desire of his life, wanted to feast his 
eyes on the plu/np form of bonny Jenny Scott, and 
listen to that merry ringing voice, the tones of which 
memory kept faintly echoing all the year round. But 
he lived at Ilaxey Hall Garth, and she lived at Barnby- 
on-the-Don. True, he heard from her occasionally, when 
some stray merchant or enterprising drover made a 
perilous journey across the marshes, by old sloppy 
bridle paths, with here and there a line of flagged 
bank, not wide enough to allow one pack-horse to pass 
its fellow. A local traveller, in those days, was bur- 
dened with messages ; and what wonder if absorbed in 
his own affairs, he neglected to deliver some of those 
precious answers and love-tokens, which were of no 
concern to him, but fraught with interest to the parties 
themselves. We, in this age of writing and rapid 
locomotion, can but feebly appreciate those serious 
consequences attending the omission of a simple mes- 
sage. 

Young Greaves, of Haxey Hall Garth, had been much 
troubled at not hearing from his mistress ; he resolved 
therefore to carry a message himself ; then he would be 
sure to get an answer ; so on this particular cold morn- 
ing, he started off a full hour before day-break, not 
without some pressages of fear in his heart. A few 
stars blinked in the sky, rarefying the gloom but very 
little, and it was difficult to distinguish ten yards be- 
fore him, even such large objects as wide spreading 



80 STORIES AKD SKETCHES 

trees. When day-light slowly appeared, the sun was 
still hidden in the clouds, and, seeing no track, young 
Greaves cut a twig, notched the end thereof, and threw 
it up into the air. Master Greaves believed in fate, de- 
voutly regarded omens, and therefore resolved to follow 
that direction on the ground to which the notch 
pointed. This proved rather an unfortunate decision, 
since the notch pointed much further toward the east 
than the course he should have taken. Our brave pe- 
destrian pursued his way for two or three hours without 
meeting a single human face or habitation, although 
as he swept along many a startled wild bird crept lower 
in its bed of frozen rushes, or took to flight with a 
clamorous cry. 

On a wide and dreary waste there are not usually 
many landmarks, or points of observation, still our 
traveller thought he must be out of his latitude, since 
the aspect of the country seemed altogether new and 
strange. He had never before traversed such vast pools, 
the surface of which was in many places very slippery, 
while before him, in almost a straight line, rose a broad 
patch of elevated ground, containing a number of bare 
trees : this place he had certainly never seen before, so 
he advanced towards the spot, thinking that it might 
possibly contain a few inhabitants, feeling sure of one 
thing, that however far he might have deviated in 
his course, the waste would terminate somewhere, 
that he could not travel many miles further without 
reaching a human dwelling. And he went briskly on. 
Presently was heard a loud rapping noise, as if some 
one was beating the ground with heavy strokes. The 
strokes were not only vigorous but regular, such as, in 
Master Greaves 1 opinion, no beast or bird could make. 
Our traveller hastened to the spot with cheerful eager- 
ness, but had the young man known what was to follow, 
he would have taken a different route I ween. On 
passing a clump of trees he came suddenly in contact 
with a being of gigantic stature ; who might very well 
be taken for the Demon of the Moors. His dress was 
formed from some kind of skins, but of what kind 
could scarcely be determined, since the pelt was worn 
outside, the fur or hair being next to the wearer's skin. 
The coat or tunic was sewn together with grass, or the 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 81 

strong rind of rushes ; so were his nether garments, 
and both were bound to his body with vegetable thongs. 
In the platted girdle encircling his waist was stuck a 
formidable looking dagger or knife, a hook, made so as 
to serve numerou-s purposes, an axe, and one or two 
other implements, respecting which it would be difficult 
for us now to assign a use. A large hairy cap formed 
of foumart skins encompassed his head, from which 
depended a perfect avalanche of matted hair, which, 
reaching far down his shoulders intermingled with a 
beard of most portentious length. The giant heeded 
not the approach of his intruder, but continued break- 
ing the surface ice of a great pond, no doubt with the 
design of luring wild fowl. Suddenly it struck our 
traveller that this must be the terrible hermit of Lind- 
holme, whose exploits were the theme of wonder for 
many miles round. Master Greaves, therefore, crossed 
himself, and would have sped secretly from the place, 
had not the hermit turned his keen grey eyes in that 
direction. 

" Young man," said he, "what object brings you 
here ?" 

"I am a stranger, and have lost my way." 

" Then you shall be my guest, for this day, at least ; 
and when the moon is risen assist me to catch the wild 
fowl." 

Master Greaves trembling like an aspen leaf, replied 
— "Pardon me, but I must speed on my way ; affairs 
of importance require my presence at Barnby before 
nightfall ; indeed, I must make all haste." 

" Did I not say you shall be my guest to-night. Not 
often are these eyes gladdened by the sight of a human 
face. Certes, I think sometimes this tongue of mine, 
for want of exercise, will lose the proper use of speech. 
Alack ! alack ! the last visitor to my poor hut was 
fetched here by compulsion." 

The young man looked furtively at the ogre, dreading 
some fearful revelation. 

"It was mid-autumn, the weather for weeks con- 
tinued scorching hot, the heather was dry as tinder, the 
lesser pools were all dried up, and people ventured, 
now and then, to cross the waste. But little do mea 
dream how deceptive the moor is— a dry surface moss 

F 



82 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

often conceals a deep pit. A stranger ventures where 
he thinks there is foothold, sinks up to the waist, and, 
perhaps, it is only by stretching out his arms that he 
can prevent sinking over head." 

11 People are foolish for travelling this way at any 
time," remarked young Greaves. " Some, no doubt, 
are buried alive." 

" Buried alive, yes, and I get the blame of having 
spirited them away. But listen to me. Three moons 
ago, about the middle of a day, I heard a distant cry, 
and felt sure that it came from some foundering tra- 
veller ; so tying on my bog-shoes (you shall see them — 
they are each about a yard long), shouldering, also, a 
five yard pole, I gave an answering hallo, and set out 
on the chase. Now there was prospect of help, the 
bogged wretch screached lustily. Guided by the sound, I 
soon arrived at the spot, when laying my pole across 
the swamp, a pair of hands grasped it with all the 
avidity of hope. My victim was a man older and 
heavier than yourself ; indeed it required a famous 
haul to draw him out of the bog." 

" You saved the man's life, and thereby deserved 
*ome gratitude." 

M He, he, he ! I got but scant thanks, however, 
for when the soaken wretch saw his deliverer, he would 
have fled as from the devil. I laid my hand on his 
shoulder, giving him a slight push onwards, when the 
coward gave such a terrible yell, and seemed so helpless, 
that I fastened his carcase to the pole and carried him 
in mid-air. Ho, ho, ho ! how he did roar and 
wriggle ; I could scarcely hold the pole for laughter. 
Ha, ha, ha ! Wasn't it funny ?" 

" Very," replied young Greaves, making the most 
doleful attempt at a laugh, for it could scarcely be ex- 
pected that in his situation, the young man should ap- 
preciate the excellent merits of such a joke. 

" Long before we reached the hut the man on the 
pole had fainted, and for five days afterwards was in a 
burning fever. I bled him, physicked him, nursed 
him, and liked the duty. It was curious to mark what 
effect a high fever had upon the mind and body of my 
patient. For many hours together he lost all sense of 
present circumstances, did not even know me ; and yet 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 83 

his body writhed in fearful convulsions, tasking a little 
of my strength to hold him down. Once and again he 
clutched me with a maniac's grasp, his eyes rolled, 
every feature was aghast with terror ; and yet, except 
the panting, or rather croaking of an exhausted 
frame, no sound escaped his lips. Was not that 
curious ?" 

" Strange that his lips should not have expressed 
what was raging in his mind," replied the young man. 

" Very strange," continued the hermit. I watched 
all the symptoms with the keenest zest, marked the 
effects of various applications, howled in his ear, 
dropped water on his face, pricked him." 

" And what became of your patient in the end?" 
enquired Master Greaves, with some anxiety in his 
voice. 

" Ha 1" replied the hermit, " you must a&k me that 
question in the morning. But we will now proceed to 
my poor hut, for this bracing air sharpens the appetite ; 
and, humble though the meal may be, William of Lind- 
holme is not so churlish as to deny a morsel to the 
stranger." 

If any man had cause to make a ' ' virtue of neces- 
sity " it was Walter Greaves ; he liked not the invita- 
tion, we may be sure, but it was useless to resist, and 
until opportunity presented itself of escape resolved to 
acquiesce in all the terrible hermit's whims. After a 
short walk they espied the hut, which was neither so 
small nor so cheerless as the young man had anticipated, 
for, evidently, a great amount of labour had been be- 
stowed, not only to make it impervious to the weather, 
but to give a character of stability and even ornamen- 
tation to the place. It was clear enough that, what- 
ever devilish rites or superstitious notions he might 
adopt and practice, this giant recluse was no grovelling 
maniac. On opening the door they discovered a few 
embers smouldering on the hearth, which were soon 
quickened by the addition of some dry logs taken from 
a corner of the cell, and the hermit began to make pre- 
parations for their present and future meals. Some 
cakes of bruised corn, baked upon the hearth, together 
with the remnants of cooked fowl were placed upon the 
board, while the visitor was enjoined to help himself, 



84 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

the hermit tearing and derouriug large mouthfuls of 
the viands by way of example. Wine or other intoxi- 
cating liquors the hermitage did not possess ; their 
drink was water, and good water too. Afterwards the 
hermit proceeded to strip some wild ducks of their 
feathers, during which time a great deal of desultory 
conversation Avas indulged in, until at length young 
Greaves became so bold as to pry into the hermit's 
history, why he forsook the world and decided upon a 
secluded life amongst these dreary swamps. While 
the wild ducks were fizzing on the fire, the hermit re- 
clined on a couch of ling, according his visitor the 
chair of state, which was the root of a tree, curiously 
but comfortably fashioned, and then this strange man 
told the story of his life. 



Chapter III.— In which the Hermit discloses his 
Private History. 

1 ' I was born in the county of no matter what 

county, it is a long way from here. My father was a 
yeoman, and we lived in a grand old house, where our 
ancestors had resided for many generations. Excepting 

the Ve Tush ! never mind the name — call it Yen- 

tager ; except the Yentagers we were the chief family 
in the village. I was an only child, while the Yentager 
had a house full of sons and daughters : he had also an 
orphan niece and ward. In the morning of life she be- 
came the star of my destiny." 

" I thought there would be a woman in the case," re- 
plied Master Greaves ; " a woman and the devil are agen- 
cies sufficient to account for anything." 

"They have both been largely concerned in my expe- 
rience" continued the hermit. " But let me not fore- 
stall the order of events, let me first introduce you to 
Leila. In childhood we were playmates, and I can 
scarcely tell the precise time we became lovers ; no 
doubt the emotion arose before it was consciously ac- 
knowledged to ourselves. 

" A prettier, merrier sprite than Leila did not exist. 
And yet, at times, the girl would sit so silently apart ; 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 85 

and I used to think she seemed more like an angel thus 
pensive than when in mirth. Suddenly Leila would 
catch me gazing like one inspired into her face, then 
waked up as from a reverie, saying — 'Tell me, is there 
any joy in the universe like loving and being beloved ?' 
If ought could do it, holy thoughts of Leila would exor- 
cise the devil that is within me. 

" Young man, did you ever experience a time when 
life was purely delicious, when the essential purpose of 
living was ratified in happiness ?" 

"I have felt something like this." 

"H — m. I know who you are, and why you are 
taking this journey." 

"'But I have never set eyes on you before to-day." 

"We have never met before ; but I can read thy past 
history, and, if desirable, could tell something of the 
future. Even now thy thoughts keep reverting to a 
maiden by the river : this journey, so unwillingly pro- 
longed, is undertaken on her account." 

Walter Greaves, trembling, thought within himself — 
This fearful man has not his name for nothing. But he 
ventured to ask if this suit of his would terminate 
happily. 

" Young man,* ? replied the hermit, " there is sorrow 
in store for thee. Even now cruel fate is thwarting thy 
most cherished desires : but thou wilt conquer in the 
end. And now listen to my tale, for to both of us the 
recital may beguile an hour of weary torment. I was 
speaking of Leila and myself, of our childhood and early 
loves. Years passed on, tending to make us more like 
one being in affection and thought and purpose. But 
we were not one, there was a blank left, something 
wanting. Leila was very dear, but I wanted to call her 
all my own ; so I spake to my father about a cottage 
there is on the Linthwaite Edge, and craved a little 
settlement. My parent for a moment was like one 
struck dumb ; then he gave vent to such a storm of 
passion that I was taken quite aback, not anticipating 
this vehemence of displeasure. ' Marry the penniless 
niece of Ventager,' said he, ' but mind this, my doors 
will be closed against you and her for ever.' Former 
experience told me that my father's resolution would 
never change. I retired from his presence sick at 



86 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

heart, but saying not a word in reply, and for days 
those ordinary pursuits and healthy pastimes became dis- 
tasteful to me. The greatest of evils is a parent's male- 
diction ; but separated from Leila the whole world was a 
blank. I must either renounce Leila or become an alien 
and an outcast : then what would become of us both ? 
The best we could hope for would be a servile depen- 
dance on an uncle's land. A week dragged on slowly 
and painfully, for althongh longing to tell her all, I yet 
dreaded, and postponed the interview. At length I set 
out to see Leila once more, and beg of her to wait." 

"Good!" exclaimed involuntarily the young man. 
11 Heaven will consummate all honest vows, and drive 
the evil from us." 

" When I came near the house there seemed a loneli- 
ness about it ; even the serfs, who were ever forward 
with a welcome obeisance, now appeared indifferent to 
my approach. Leila was generally the first to accord a 
loving welcome, but there was no Leila there now ; her 
uncle and guardian stood in the entrance hall. He 
beckoned me to follow him, and when we gained his 
private room, thus blasted all my hopes : — Your father 
has been heie, and with foul words accused me of base- 
ness. He said I was beguiling his sole child to an un- 
worthy marriage. You I respect and pity, but Leila 
never shall be yours. Poor as she is, the Lord of Lorn 
has craved my niece's hand, and I have given my pledge 
that queenly Leila shall grace the house of Lorn." 

"But you will let me see her, hear from her lips if 
she accepts this rich new suitor, and take one last fare- 
well.' Thus did I plead." 

"No," said he, with a flash of scorn, " 'tis best you 
should not see her. So tell the 'Squire of Linthwaite I 
plot now to place my niece in a far higher sphere, and 
spurn his proud alliance. Never come here again." 

" So, for no fault of mine, I was driven from a house 
where had passed the happiest hours of my life. Be- 
wildered by the stroke, in my retreat I stumbled upon 
a waiting-maid, who said she had a message for me : 
Mistress Leila was going to be married, and had sent to 
say that she never wished to see me any more. I found 
out afterwards that all this was a base fabrication. In 
the extremity of sorrow, with the fever burning in my 






RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 87 

veins, I sought council of forbidden guides. A witch 
lived on an adjoining common in a dilapidated, misera- 
ble hut. The wrinkled old hag is before me now, but 
you cannot see her. See ! she is grinning at me with a 
weird laugh on her hideous face ! Avaunt !" 

Young Greaves crossed himself, and closed his eyes, 
when the hermib continued — 

" It was a wild, stormy night, the wind howled, and 
the rain poured down, but I hurried on to this home of 
the witch. After knocking three times I noticed a dark 
object flying through the air, which entered a hole in 
the roof where the smoke came out. The owl hooted, 
the frog croaked, the snake hissed ; but amidst these 
discordant sounds a screeching voice bade me enter. I 
entered, and there crouched the witch, throwing into a 
seething cauldron a mangled lifeless head, which grin- 
ned horribly, human hair clotted with gore, the body 
of a murdered infant, two spans long, and such like 
food. While the cauldron seethed the witch yelled her 
fiendlike incantations, keeping up a frantic dance in 
the magic circle. Flaming snakes, and hideous shapes 
of air rose from the pot. The old hag advanced towards 
me, chaunting a kind of ditty — 

Who comes here • 

Had need beware, 
For the devil and I are cousins. 
And then she danced again her frantic round with 
greater vehemence. I have heard of the dance of 
devils, and the dance of death, but never before saw 
fierce passion and furious motion so closely allied. 
When the old hag was in a mood to listen, I made known 
my request." 

"Which was — ?" 

"To be rid of my rival, in any way, at any cost. 
The witch shook her head. Her power did not extend 
so far. She could scare people, and laugh at their tor- 
ments, but it was the devil who did the mischief — she 
was only the devil's drudge." 

" Then witches, and a — a — ." 

11 Out with it — witches, and wizards, such as my- 
self." 

" How do you know that present company was in my 
mind !" 



88 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

"Because the devil at the same moment told me so." 

4 * All this puzzles me," exclaimed the young man. 
" I believe that some particular demon, at times, per- 
haps, a whole legion of devils may be near or about us, 
even in us, tempting, cajoling, threatening. We may 
not see them with these bodily eyes." 

"Would you like to see one ?" 

" Not for the world. Yea, by the help of Heaven, 
I'll keep them all at bay : and yet I'm puzzled. How 
can infernal beings so change the natural order of events 
to gratify a votary's desires. A few have been so 
wicked as to — a— a " 

" Speak out ; you include myself." 

"Heaven helping me I'll speak it out, and fear not 
fiend or wizard." 

" I know your thoughts ; but let me put the case. 
One man craves riches, and then because Heaven will 
not forward his desires, he throws off all allegiance to 
the Divine, and supplicates the demon. He gets his 
wish fulfilled." 

" How ? The devil is not Almighty ; his power is re- 
strained within a certain limit." 

' ' The emissaries of our Prince are active, spreading in- 
formation both particular and general. Their observa- 
tion is wide, and their knowledge is vast. Almost as 
vast as our feeble conceptions of the infinite are the 
faculties of disembodied spirits, for the barriers of sense 
are all removed ; they know the alphabet of spirit 
thought. They tell of one and another mortal who will 
barter the prospects of eternal happiness for gold— de- 
liberately do this. It is an easy thing to tell him where 
a hoard of gold lies hidden, or point out some unfailing 
mode by which great wealth may be amassed. And so 
with any other purpose man may have ; the power and 
circumstance is so controlled that he attains his end. 
But in the end the devil safely gets him." 

"There may be truth in this," replied young 
Greaves ; " but after all we do not need satanic influence 
to make us like a demon. At heart we are just what 
we choose to be." Then after a few moment's silence 
he continued — "But if we sell ourselves, body aud 
soul, to Satan, then Heaven renounces us for ever ; we 
lace ourselves beyond the reach of hope. This is the 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 89 

deadly sin, unpardonable; and wicked Jews in ages long 
ago did taunt the Saviour with it." 

"But," interrupted the hermit, "do you wish to 
hear any more of my narrative ?" 

" I wish to hear it through." 

" Then pay attention. While talking to the witch a 
stupor seized me (this was a token of satanic presence), 
and when I had partially recovered, there, sure enough, 
was a devil in the hut." 

" In what form did he come ?" 

"Like a great ape. But the light in the hovel 
vanished, so that I could see dimly and indistinctly. 
The fiend had wings bristling with feathers, and each 
feather at the tip was armed with a claw ; his hands 
and feet were claws, spread open wide. But what a 
fearful head ! — beak like a bird of prey ; eyebrows like 
scars of lurid red ; hair formed of twisting snakes ; a 
deep cavernous mouth, armed with projecting teeth ; 
great goggling eyes like globes of fire, flashed their 
lightning jets, then tinged the atmosphere with pallid 
glare, shewing the cloud of darkness curling round, 
made by his smoky breath. In a hollow sepulchral 
voice, like an echo from the depths of the grave, this 
dreadful being demanded why I summoned him ? I was 
speechless, paralysed, like one half dead with fright, 
'til the witch took a murderer's skull, and filling it with 
bx-oth from the cauldron gave me to drink. After just 
tasting the mess it fell to the ground, and broke into 
flame, when, fired by madness (for the demon revenge 
was paramount then) I cried out — 'To be rid of my 
rival.' 

'That may be done,' said the devil ; 'but I do not 
give aid for nothing. I want, terms for my services, 
and a written contract must be signed between us.' 

' And what are the terms V I demanded. 

' That I may claim you for my own after fifty years : 
in the meantime you will be gifted with more than 
mortal power.' 

'Iaccept the terms.' 

"The witch now advanced and placed my hand in the 
devil's claws, one of which pierced a vein, from which, 
the blood flowed copiously. She then plucked a feather 
from the devil's wing, and scrawled her hellish charac- 



00 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

ters upon a parchment scroll. On this I made my mark 
in my own blood. 

" Then the devil vanished, when the hut became sud- 
denly a blaze of light ; and there was the witch in a 
frantic dance round the magic circle, cbaunting this 
ditty— 

The bat and the owl 
May hide in a cowl, 
But the devil will have his own. 
When the dance was ended the witch said — 'Meet 
me here again next Friday night.' And I gave her my 
pledge." 



Chapter IV. — Shows what came op the Hermit's 
Contract, and how Master Greaves Saved Him- 
self by Flight. 

The witch haunted Ventager's house in the shape of a 
black cat : she wanted to know particularly how the 
Lord of Lorn stood with Leila. But why take the form 
of a black cat ? Because then she could see in the 
dark, and hide in a corner, and purr unobserved while 
the lovers were purring. What so active and stealthy 
as a lithe black cat ? 

The witch lost no time in bouncing through an open 
window, and sat under a cupboard in Mistress Leila's 
room. Mistress Leila was at her embroidery, busy 
working in the lips of a warrior knight ; and an ugly 
mouth she made ; her fingers trembled because her 
mind was preturbed. But soon the door opened, and 
in stepped a gallant wooer. In appearance and attire 
he seemed a proper man, such as no lady need be 
ashamed to own ; he bad, also, a very pretty manner 
of speech ; indeed, his whole bearing was excellent, 
neither too bold nor too shy. Mistress Leila rose and 
curtsied courteously, showing no little grace ; then with 
eyes fixed earnestly on the canvass, she plied again her 
busy needle. 

' ' Ever industrious, " began the young man. ' ' These 
works of taste will be looked upon with pride and 
pleasure when the artist is a cosy old woman ; years 



feELAtlNQ *0 YORKSHIRE. 9l 

after that, when she is no more to be seen, bright eyes 
will turn to the tapestry and say— These are the work 
of our great great grandmother Leila, all done by her 
own busy fingers, long, long ago ; and then some per- 
sonal reminiscences of that dear old relative will be 
related for the thousandth time, of her great personal 
beauty, her clever winning ways, and the happiness she 
vouchsafed in yielding her hand to — shall I say Henry of 
Lorn ?" 

The gentle Leila said nothing, but continued stitching 
away at the canvass . 

"0, bye-the-bye, your old friend and playmate is 
going to be married." 

The maiden gave an involuntary start, the blood 
rushed to her temples, and then became as it were con- 
gealed ; there was first a deep carnation red, and then 
a snowy paleness, while the black cat which sat under 
the cupboard purred with delight ; the lie was so subtle 
and effective 

Poor Leila, it was not to be expected that she should 
so soon forget the attachment of a lifetime ! True, for 
some unknown cause he had forsaken her ; true, her 
guardian, with an unwonted bitterness of manner 
almost compelled her to receive the attentions of another 
(who in a worldly point of view was every way de- 
sirable), but old love is not like an old dress or orna- 
ment which may be put on or off according to the caprice 
or policy of an hour. 

" You know, perhaps, whom he is engaged to wed," 
continued the young man. 

" No, I do not." 

" Epps, the rich miser's daughter." 

" I cannot believe it," she replied; for with a par- 
donable vanity Leila could not help instituting a com- 
parison between that girl and herself. 

"Ouray honour, it is true. Come with me to the 
'tilting bout' at Oulton ; there you will have an oppor- 
tunity of seeing in what relation they stand to each 
other. Let me have the honour of escorting you 
thither, for Mistress Leila cannot be ashamed to meet 
him." 

"Ashamed?" 

" Promise that you will go." 



92 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

" Yes, I will be there." 
The black cat had heard enough for present purposes, 
so she stole round the room like a guilty thing, and 
then with a bound made her exit by the same road 
which she came, startling both the young people, and 
leaving in Mistress Leila's mind the impression of an 
unfavourable omen. 

It was all a lie, the subject of our history was not 
engaged to Epp's daughter. During the whole course 
of his life he had not cared to cultivate an acquaintance 
with that damsel ; certainly he never dreamt of making 
her his wife. And yet the fabrication served its end, 
which was to secure a companion in Leila at the " tilt- 
ing bout." 

The black cat, alias witch, did not reassume a 
human form until she was concealed from observation 
in her own hut on the common : what transpired after- 
wards had best be chronicled just as it was related by 
the hermit to Master Greaves. 

" When my compact with Satan was ratified," he 
observed, " it seemed as if all tenderer feelings were 
put away : I was conscious of the loss, without regret- 
ting the consequence. Some emotions were certainly 
intensified, hate for my rival was fixed and deadly, and, 
though above all other things I desired to gain Leila, 
the passion was but a consuming thirst for possession, 
just as the miser pants for gold, or the adventurer pants 
for conquest. 

' ' I kept my appointment with the witch, fearless 
now of her devilish incantations. Since I became one 
of the fraternity there was less of mystery and more 
cordiality in the old hag." 

" A certain good fellowship was established between 
you ?" 

" Exactly. She had no terror for me now, even the 
most horrid and blasphemous rites would have awakened 
within me no abhorrence." 

There was a deep, general truth in all this, and 
although not audibly, the young man prayed — "De- 
liver us from evil, for siu has a hardening influence." 

"Then the witch began to open out her budget — 
' I have been up to tbe Ventager's house,' said she, 
' and had an interview with Mistress Leila .' 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 93 

" * Did she seek you, or you sought her ? — Pooh ! I 
am sure she would not send for you.' 

" ' I formed one of three in her own private room . But 
she did not know that I was present ; her ears and 
eyes were too much engrossed by another and more wel- 
come visitor.' 

" 'It was the Lord of Lorn,' I exclaimed. — ' Perdi- 
tion seize him ! How did he address her V 

" ' He went down on his knees to kiss her hand, and 
sued in such a humble guise, as if she were in rank, 
same as in personal loveliness, placed far above him. 
And didn't she like the homage ? Take my word for 
it — the best way to a woman's heart is through her 
vanity.' 

" ' A blasted lie !' I answered. ' Leila was never 
vain.' 

" ' Henry of Lorn is shrewd,' replied the witch ; 
' and the devotion of so rich a man seemed on the sur- 
face truthful. How touchingly he then described the 
life in his castle home, with such a bride as Leila. 
The lady is not vain. Oh, no ; but I could see the 
gleam of anticipated pleasure in her eye, also the tinge 
of triumph lighting up her brow. Zounds ! how she 
blushed as he paused for an&wer. And when he raised 
his lips for an embrace she kissed him.' 

" ' Oh, how the demon Hate did stir within me ; I 
gnashed my teeth with rage. 

" ' To-morrow is the tournament at Oulton,' the 
witch continued. ' Mistress Leila will proceed thither 
on a richly caparisoned palfrey, ambling by the side 
of—' 

" ' Tell me no lies, witch.' I exclaimed. 

" 'Ambling by the side of thy rival : to-morrow will 
show whether my words are true. Listen to me. Thou 
knowest the large whych-elm of Inglewood ?' 

" ' I know it.' 

" ' Meet me there in the morning, two hours after 
sun-rise. I'll bring a draught which shall protect thee 
from the lance and the spear ; after which face this 
lordly rival, and fight for the hand of Leila. But go 
away now, for I have other business at present, which 
concerns thee nothing.' 

"I am getting sleepy," observed the hermit ; "for 



94 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

last night I was out netting the wild-fowl ; now I have 
a companion we will have some rare sport to-night." 

" But I want to hear what took place between the 
Lord of Lorn and yourself, at the tilting bout," said 
Walter Greaves. 

" Well, I will tell you in a few words, for I really am 
getting drowsy. I met the old hag, and she gave me a 
drink. After that an amazing courage fired me ; I 
could have torn this lordly rival into a hundred frag- 
ments. But the tournament drew near ; so I saddled 
a favourite black steed called Ronald, furbished my 
armour, sharpened the edge of my spear, and proceeded 
to the rendezvous. It was no lie, Leila and her lover 
in dazzling array came together, and my old and only 
love was placed high above all that gay assemblage as 
arbiter of the combatants. Methought when I came 
near she would have swooned, all life and gaiety seemed 
banished from her. But soon the ranks were formed, 
and first of all I challenged my rival. He treated me 
with cold contempt, said he would choose his combatant ; 
still he could not bar my rank, for I, a yeoman's son, 
had title there to challenge any comer. I said he was a 
coward, and spat upon bis armour." 

"He would fight then, I trow," remarked his 
auditor. 

11 No, he would not; so, mad with jealousy, I raised 
my axe, and smote his skull in twain." 

" That was a coward's trick," replied young 
Greaves. 

"Be not too bold, young man, or I shall smite your 
skull ; and yet I like a free outspoken guest. Just 
then a dark hideous form stood by my side, and a wild, 
shrill, unearthly sound of fiendish laughter rang through 
the air. Leila had swooned, while the assembly seemed 
all paralysed with terror. I fled before the cry of ven- 
geance rose, and hoped to find in some secure abode a 
respite from my fears. 

"But enough at present, fori am sleepy. Why I 
came here, how I have lived throughout these many 
years, shall be revealed to-morrow. So follow my ex- 
ample for a snooze." 

The hermit laid down before the fire ; Master Greaves, 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 95 

still seated, leaned against the hut side. The hermit 
was soon fast asleep and snoring ; young Greaves, 
•watching his opportunity, glided noiselessly out of the 
hut, and then with more vigour than ever he had dis- 
played before, left the island of Lindholme many leagues 
behind. Ultimately he reached Barnby-on-the-Don, 
spreading his adventures with the hermit all throughout 
that neighbourhood, which, with other marvellous tales 
of a like kind, were the theme of conversation for many 
years afterwards . 



STORIES AND SKETCHES 



ON THE GRADUAL EXTINCTION OF VERMIN. 

When I was a boy at home our little Yorkshire town 
was distinguished by two swine ringers, who remained 
in office twelve months, and afterwards, during the suc- 
ceeding year, assumed the jurisdiction of chief con- 
stables for that parish ; they appointed their own depu- 
ties, which deputies, of course, did all the work and 
secured the emoluments. Those important functionaries 
also appointed their successors, who in turn became one 
year swine ringers and the next year chief constables. 
I remember asking my father, when be and our neigh- 
bour the druggist occupied that official position, why 
they were called swine ringers, since they appeared to 
have no employment in pig ringing. This is one of the 
offices, said he, the continuance of which has survived 
its duties. Many years ago there were no hedges, mak- 
ing separate enclosure of fields, but plenty of woods. 
The whole district might be divided into four parts ; 
there was so much plough-land, so much wood, so much 
common ; all the rest waste or bog. Every foot of 
gi-ound was not then parcelled out and appropriated by 
individual freeholders. There was a common right ; 
that is to say, every native householder had free range 
for his horse or cow or pig. But pigs have an in- 
stinctive habit of rooting the soil up with their noses, 
often committing great destruction in this manner. 
To prevent this they must be rung, and it was the 
original prerogative of our office to see that no pig was 
introduced upon the common without one strong nail, 
at least, being firmly embedded in its nose. I suppose 
then that the practice of rooting would be attended 
with pain, thus counteracting the natural propensity 
of the animal. 

This explanation seemed quite satisfactory, and the 
office was perpetuated time out of mind. In those 
days, however, swine ringers had nothing to do, so far 
as I could observe : the real duties commenced on the 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 97 

Bficond year, when as constables they were responsible 
for the acts of their deputies. 

But further — and this was a very curious feature — 
their jurisdiction was not confined to vagrant, refrac- 
tory, and felonious bipeds, it extended also to those 
pests of the animal kingdom, which, according to 
parochial authorities, ought not to live. The rage 
against sparrows, polecats or foumarts, &c, became some- 
thing fearful, and it was conducted on this wise, viz., 
by the payment of " head-money." Every man, wo- 
man, and child was advised and encouraged to exter- 
minate vermin. Those who brought sparrow heads to 
the chief constables, through the deputies, received for 
young sparrow heads a penny for four, or threepence per 
dozen ; for adult sparrow heads a penny for two, or a 
halfpenny each, which money had to be repaid out of 
the poor-rate. I have seen scores, even hundreds of 
these trunkless birds counted out at a time — heads uid 
ghastly necks exhibiting every phase of deadly agony. 
The greatest proportion of these birds would be shot in 
flocks or coveys, and afterwards decapitated : in their 
case the mutilation would be in unconsciousness. Still a 
considerable number of sparrows were caught alive in 
traps by juveniles, and had their heads literally pulled 
from the trunks while the poor frightened twitterers 
were fully sensitive to the torture. Now, independent 
of any economic features which such a case may present, 
the subject, in its moral aspects, merited a little consi- 
deration even at the hands of parish officials. To tear 
off the head of a sparrow, even after it is dead, can 
scarcely be said to have a humanizing tendency, 
especially upon youthful minds ; but scragging them 
alive !— the practice is very bad indeed. 

Although small and very common birds, a great deal 
might be written respecting sparrows. They devour 
the farmer's grain ? Granted. But they also destroy 
grubs^especially caterpillars, and many insects. Well, 
then, it remains a simple question of arithmetic as to 
whether they do most good or harm. Some years ago 
the common practice was to shoot, poison, and kill all 
small birds inhabiting gardens ; the consequence was 
that caterpillars and grubs devoured the vegetation, go 
that for the sake of a few cherries, peas, and now and 

G 



98 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

then a small piece of ripe apple, all kinds of produce 
suffered amazirgly. We now know that this was very 
short-sighted policy. 

There be many species of small birds which de- 
vour corn, and yet the local law of extermination was 
applied only to sparrows. Was this right ? Are spar- 
rows more voracious and more prolific than other birds ? 
They are certainly pretty good peckers ; moreover they 
seldom neglect their duties in the congugal relations of 
life ; but do they alone amongst birds merit the ban of 
extermination ? Our old parochial authorities thought 
they did. Had some youthful Hampden brought a lin- 
net's or a goldfinch's head he would have got only his 
labour for his pains ; while the tender of a poor little 
robin's "knowledge-box" might have awakened some 
pity and more indignation. But are sparrows vermin ? 
This is a practical question which may apply to all lo- 
calities and all times. Vermin ! — we think not. What 
would Catullus have thought if any one had designated 
Lesbia's sparrow vermin ? You have read ' ' Ad 
Passerem Lesbise ?" No ! Then hear a translation made 
by the king of journalists : — 

Little sparrow, gentle sparrow, 

Whom my Lesbia loveth so ; 

Her sweet playmate, whom she petteth, 

And she letteth 
To her bosom come and go. 

Loving there to hold thee ever, 

Her forefinger to thy bill, 

Oft she pulleth and provoketh ; 

And she mocketh, 
Till you bite her harder still. 

Then new beauty glistening o'er her, 
Pain'd and blushing doth she feign 
Some sweet play of love's excesses, 

And caresses 
More to sooth or hide her pain. 

Would thou werfc my pretty birdie, 
Plaything — playmate unto me, 
Knowing when her loss doth grieve me, 

To relieve me ( 
For she seeks relief from thee. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 99 

But, after all, some crotchety individual may say — 
Your argument or apology will only apply in a partial, 
limited sense ; without some restrictive enactments 
sparrows might multiply so fast that the grub eaters 
would preponderate over the grubs. Our reply is that 
should such a result happen in our day we might re- 
vive the old enactment of "head money. " Until then 
we may safely let them live, subject to the ordinary 
vicissitudes of starvation and sparrow-hawks. 

And now let us notice the polecat, or foumart. Our 
parish constables bought the stinking carcase at the 
current price of sixpence, so that a dead foumart was 
accounted equal to twelve sparrow-heads. 

That puzzles you, reader. Sixpence for a pole-cat ! 
Why how can the pole-cat be regarded as a public pest ? 
It is a carniverous little animal, living in the woods ; 
it does not eat the farmer's grain. Certainly not ; but 
it makes sad havoc amongst his good dame's poultry ; 
indeed its wantonly destructive powers know no bounds. 
A gentleman in Derbyshire says he found, one morning, 
eight ducks lying dead in an outhouse ; when, presently, 
a foumart stole out of a corner, licking its lips, and 
koked up at the discomforted owner as " bold as brass." 
He ought to have had a good terrier dog with him, you 
will say. It requires a very good dog to tackle the 
foumart. The vermin, when grabbed, will twist its 
lithe body, and inflict such a bite ou the dog's nose or 
throat, that the latter is often compelled to lose its hold. 
A friend of mine writes: — "I remember once finding 
two very fine hens with perforated throats, and quite 
dead, while a third fowl was removed away bodily : this 
was, no doubt, the work of a foumart." I rather 
differ with my friend respecting his conclusion. That a 
pole-cat, ferret, or stoat (and they are all one family) 
killed the two hens is quite evident, from the manner 
in which they were brained ; but not one of these 
vermin could either eat up or carry off a good plump 
hen. There might be two or three foumarts employed 
in removing the cackler. There might ; but still the 
conclusion is not very probable, because the foumart 
will seldom make a tour of this kind in company. Dur 
ing the night he will often travel many miles to a 
poultry-yard, or in search of field game ; but he goes by 

G 3 



100 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

himself. True, I have read somewhere that pole-cats 
hunt in packs by the scent, like hounds ; but there are 
so many strange tales given in books of natural history, 
that it would not do to believe above a tithe. We will 
suppose for a moment that they feel excitement and 
real pleasure in the chase ; it remains far from evident 
that they will ever catch anything. How is it likely 
that they can keep up with a hare, or even a rabbit ? 

Many years ago it was a practice in Yorkshire for 
people, with sticks and terrier dogs, to hunt fou- 
marts by moonlight ; but I am afraid this practice 
was often made a pretext for more unlawful hunting ; 
and certainly, no game preserver now would like 
a band of men like these to beat through his preserves. 
But rural parishes do not now offer sixpence per carcase 
for every dead foumart. Still there are always two sides 
to a question. The fitchet-weasel, if suffered to remain 
unmolested, will destroy an incredible number of game. 
Every kind of weasel does this. Even the little com- 
mon weasel, although it rids our corn-stacks and barns 
of mice by hundreds, and even thousands, will stand on 
no ceremony with a young chicken or tender duckling ; 
whilst in the coverts, where mice are scarce, it will 
brain a partridge, a young rabbit, or a leveret where- 
ever ic can find one. But as to stoats and foumarts, 
when game is plentiful, they commit the most wanton 
destruction. Look at the fitchet-weasel, he advances 
stealthily, leaping or bounding through the cover with 
such alacrity, seizing his prey almost before any danger 
is apprehended. Moreovei', he is a bold and pugnacious 
little brute. There he is, clinging to the throat of a 
victim strong enough to run off with him a considerable 
distance : but the keen little blood sucker never quits 
his hold until the hare lies quivering upon the 
ground. Talk about sucking, all the weasel tribes 
show a remarkable propensity for eggs ; thus doing in- 
calculable mischief to the unprotected pheasant or part- 
ridge nest. Well might our forefathers strive to be de- 
livered from pole-cats. The fox is no small depredator, 
but (putting out of question the matter of eggs) where 
one head of game is eaten by a fox scores are destroyed 
by pole-cats. 0, the mischief these vermin do to 
game ! 



RELATINGT TO YORKSHIRE. 101 

Here I will pause, for the reader is nestling with im- 
patience to launch forth his objection. What is it ? 

"Well, I don't see any reason why the poor-rate 
should suffer for pole-cats." 

My dear sir, I was speaking of a local custom abolished 
twenty years ago or more . And yet at a time when ver- 
min abounded, there was a show of reason for the cus- 
tom. Is it not a duty on the part of parish officers to 
protect the hen-roost, since to a great extent the price 
of poultry depends upon the supply ? 

"So far so good ; but, in the matter of game, what 
have the public to do with protecting gentlemen's pre- 
serves ? Let game owners protect their own preserves." 

And so they would if the foumart hunters will let 
them alone. Gamekeepers know best how to extermi- 
nate vermin ; they do it quietly but effectually. Year 
by year foumarts are fast diminishing, and during the 
next generation, it may be, a pole-cat will almost be as 
rare a sight as a Bengal tiger. 

There are various species of vermin closely allied to 
weasels, which are, in Yorkshire at least, now almost 
extinct. Such, for instance, are the martens (stone 
and pine), animals seldom to be met with, but ferocious 
and destructive wherever found. The ferret is of Afri- 
can origin, and only known in England by domestica- 
tion : with us, therefore, ferrets are trained, and made 
obedient to the keeper's will . 

We will reserve some other kind of vermin for another 
chapter. 



102 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

Badgers. 

Badger hunting was formerly quite a favourite York- 
shire recreation. Some of us can remember the time 
when badgers, like bears, were kept entirely for sport, 
that is to say, for baiting. This custom has long since 
passed away, partly, no doubt, because the vermin is 
now rarely to be found, and partly because popular 
tastes and habits have altered during the last fifty or a 
hundred years. The dictum of the present age is this — 
worrying animals for the mere purpose of spovt is brutal 
and demoralising. 

"Exactly," says Mr. Spicy Sleak, "my feelings 
would revolt at such a sanguinary spectacle ; indeed, 
I should faint." 

" Bosh !" exclaims Mr. Sturdy Blunt," vermin were 
made to be worried." 

"It's neither all true nor all false," replies Mr. 
Ephraim Epps, "the dictum wants sifting." 

No doubt of it, Mr. Epps, the dictum wants sifting. 
"We live in a free country, where every man is at liberty 
to express his own particular views respecting any ques- 
tion affecting either himself or the community at large. 
It is not to say because the majority in England think 
one way that the dictum is necessarily infallible. Cer- 
tainly not ; therefore you, Sturdy Blunt, and you 
Ephraim Epps, may show forth your opinions. 

I don't know how it may be with you, reader, but 
when any knotty matter throws me into a " brown 
study," I am almost sure to be pestered with ghosts. 
It's true. There riseth up in my solitary room a num- 
ber of talking apparitions, who develope all the mental 
attributes, and seem actuated by all the varying influ- 
ences of common humanity, so that I myself appear to 
be merely the spectator of an animated debate. These 
ghostly visitors do not drink your wine, or smoke your 
cigars, but for all purposes of argumeut there they are 
in propria personce, No. 1, No. 2, and No. 3, all pro- 
foundly interested in Natural History. They fall into 
discourse : — 

No. 1. — Badgers — that is the subject we have to deal 
with. Why do you kill them ? 

No. 2. — For the same reason that we kill pole-cats 
and other vermin. The foumart makes free with a 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 103 

partridge or tender chicken, which was intended for his 
betters ; the badger destroys many a nest of game ; also 
young hares. 

No. 3.— That sounds to sense. Every quadruped, 
fowl, or fish, which does not minister to our use or 
gratification has no business to live. We are the lords 
of creation. 

No. 2. — Yes, we are the "lords of creation," but 
must we, therefore, look upon inferior things simply as 
food for the belly ? I think not. If it were not for 
exercise in the open air where would be the use of a 
good dinner ? To gain an appetite or aid digestion there 
is nothing like a chase through the fields and woods 
But to get men out into the fields and woods there must 
be some object of pursuit ; then the whole powers of the 
body and mind are stimulated^ into action. 

No. 1. — Its cruel — hunting animals until their hearts 
are fit to burst, and all for the mere diversion or lusty 
exercise of man. 

No. 2. — All blarney ! Do not animals hunt one 
another ; and is there any more cruelty in following at 
the tail of a trained pack or couple of dogs, than in 
permitting them to follow their instincts unobserved ? 

No. 1. — It's my opinion that vermin, as you call 
them, in a natural state, are least of all objects of prey. 
What predatory animals would feast upon a fox or a 
badger (which is at best but a tough and rancid morsel) 
when they might have a sheep or a fawn for the catch- 
ing ? I do not pretend to say what use they are upon 
the earth, but here they are, or rather were. 

No. 2. — They were intended for sport to the sons of 
Nimrod. As in the human so in the animal kingdom, 
such as are pests to society must be persecuted, or pro- 
secuted, for that is the truer word. A farmer loses fat' 
ducks and chickens, but by-and-by he finds out that a 
fox, or some foumarts did the mischief. Does the 
owner sit quietly down with benignant feelings and say 
— Ah, well, hunger is a sharp thorn ; and they, poor 
creatures, are welcome to whatever they can pick up. 
Does he ? 

No. 1. — Of course not. But why give unnecessary 
pain to any of God's creatures. He may shoot them, 
or kill them off quickly with dogs, but not nurture and 
preserve them for purposes of sport. 



104 STORIES AND SKETCHE S 

No. 2. — It vexes me to hear any individual talk like 
a — ninney. You might never have seen or heard of a 
badger before. Is he not stealthy and cunning as a 
fox ? Is he not difficult to track without the aid of 
trained dogs ? And when found does he not bite bike the 
— old gentleman himself ? He does, I think. Who would 
leave their beds and wander half the night long in pur- 
suit of these vermin if the sense of duty was not 
quickened by the zest for diversion ? 

[Unfortunately just at this moment I must put in my 
"verdite" (alias verdict), and bawl out — yes, but once 
it was the custom to trap these animals and keep them 
for purposes of baiting. This broke the spell, and 
when I looked round all my ghostly visitors had sud- 
denly vanished — vanished into the air.] 

Reader, did you ever see a real live badger ? No. 
Then you would, perhaps, wish to learn something 
respecting its nature and habits. Its teeth are more 
adapted for crushing vegetables than tearing flesh ; still 
the animal is by no means particular in its diet. It 
takes kindly enough to roots, and various kind of fruit ; 
but it will eat rabbits or poultry, when it can get them, 
and makes sad havoc with the eggs, and young of 
partridges. I have heard of badgers eating lambs ; 
but, certainly, they have a sweet tooth in their head, 
and could not pass a hive of bees if their life depended 
upon it. Their life, however, is in no particular 
danger from these insects, for their hide being tough 
and their hair long, bees cannot harm them ; so over 
goes the hive, and the creature eats as much honey as 
would sicken half a dozen folks. 

The badger is a night prowler, sleeping all day long in 
its burrow, and only coming forth to feed at night. 
When snow is on the ground the cunning beast will not 
come out at all, since then, in all probability, his foot- 
steps would be tracked ; but whether or not he remains 
torpid through a great part of winter is even now a 
question in dispute. His burrow has but one opening 
at the surface, both for ingress and egress, but it is 
divided into several tortuous compartments, so that it 
is difficult to dig the animal out ; but if you ever come 
to a round hole lined with hay or dried grass, ten to one 
but the brute will be there, rolled up and fast asleep. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 105 

In some countries the badger is dressed for the table. 
Mr. Bell mentions having seen dozens of skinned badgers 
in China, hanging in the shambles for human food ; in- 
deep, the hind quarters salted and dried are said to 
make capital hams. Ugh ! I could not fancy them ; 
the smell is enough for me. You are perhaps aware 
that this animal, like the civet cat, exudes a secretion 
which is very odorous ; but the quality of scent more re- 
sembles that of a moufette than a civet cat, i.e., it 
stinks. 

The badger is quiet and harmless if left to itself, but 
will fight like a Trojan when attacked. In baiting it is 
often more than a match for half-a-dozen powerful dogs, 
supposing that only one of the latter was let loose at a 
time, for its skin, though tough, is what Dandy Jones 
ealls " limack :" when seized in any part, it curls its 
head and bites. Bites ! Yes, so that the strongest 
hound will rarely shake him off ; simply because no 
known animal has such a strength of jaw. Of course, 
when a dog is in this predicament, a second and per- 
haps a third is set on, when the badger's mouth cannot 
be in two places at once. But there are the claws — 
four feet, and each foot has five claws ; these if not so 
sharp as a tiger's are almost as strong. When fairly 
surrounded, the badger generally contrives to lie down 
upon his back, and goes at it " tooth and nail " while a 
particle of life exists. 

Hunting the badger is a somewhat novel and yet ex- 
citing sport. As the animal seldom leaves his den until 
towards midnight, the "meet" has a tinge of the super- 
natural, and seems scarcely "canny." Observe the 
programme — 

Scene. — A tangled Copse on the Hilhside, Bordering 
on a great dark Wood. 

Time. — Four o'clock, a.m. 

The night is fine and clear, with just sufficient light 
to discern objects floating in thin air, without exactly 
determining their character. A deep silence reigns 
around, broken at intervals by the hooting of an owl, or 
the dismal croak of the raven, until at length the good 
dogs are fairly on the "slot" of the badger, when the 



106 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

air rings with the music of the pack. Still the hunts- 
man can scai'cely distinguish his hounds as he cheers 
them on, but follows the "trail" as much by sound as 
sight, in the pale gleams of a waniDg moon. 

I once saw a fine stuffed badger which had been 
caught alive by a single woodman, without the aid of 
either dog or gun. How did he catch it ? In this 
way. Having observed in the daytime a couple of 
badger holes in a certain wood, he did — what ? Dig 
the animal out, you will say. Nothing of the kind ; for 
he might have thrown up a score tons of earth, circum- 
navigated more than one hard tree root, and not got at 
the beast after all. Charley Smith knew better than to 
waste so much labour. He waited until long after mid- 
night, and then took a lantern, a sack and some ropes 
into the wood. Charley inferred, and as it turned out 
rightly, that the badgers would be abroad eating their 
evening meal. Arriving at the spot, he prepared his 
tackle, the sack, having a string round the opening like 
the string of a purse, was thrust into the burrow, the 
mouth of the bag being propped open by a hoop ; then, 
taking the two long strings into his hands, Charley 
ascended the nearest tree, and waited until Mr. Badger 
thought proper to return home. If I remember rightly 
he watched and waited up in that tree for nearly 
three hours ; so long, indeed, that he began to think 
the badger must either have taken fresh lodgings or Re- 
mained fast asleep in his bed. It required some pa- 
tience to sit perched up all that time, solitary and yet 
not alone, for squirrels climbed the neighbouring boughs, 
and a hawk or some other bird, careering in search of 
food flapped its wings within a few yards of the spot. 
At length the woodman could dimly trace a large animal 
proceeding at an easy trot. It stopped, then sniffed the 
ground, walking round and round up to the very tree 
where Charley was. An enemy had been there, might 
be still concealed in the neighbourhood, and the badger's 
suspicions being fairly awakened, the question would 
arise as to whether it should stay or fly. After some 
further reconnoitering the careful brute bolted into his 
hole, as he thought, but the jerk proved that it was 
only into a sack ; the woodman pulled the strings tightly, 
thus enclosing his victim, and then descended to secure 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE, 107 

it. No doubt this big beast would struggle violently, 
and try to bite through the sack. But it was all in 
vain. Charley shouldered his prize, and bore it home 
in triumph, where, afterwards, it was baited with the 
best dogs in the neighbourhood. Many years have 
passed away since this took place. 



108 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

Foxes. 

Two or three weeks ago I listened to a thrilling and 
profitable lecture on " The Lights and Shadows of our 
Social Progress." The manly orator glanced at " field- 
sports," showing how hunting is one prime character- 
istic of a country gentleman (in marked contrast to that 
passion for gambling so common among our continental 
neighbours), a pastime very commendable, but — "not 
to be lived for." True, life has purposes nobler, because 
more important, than hunting. Not unheeding a per- 
sonal moral discipline, and graduation for the future 
state, there are primary social duties which demand from 
the humblest andthehighest a special cognizance. No man 
can neglect these and be blameless. Hunting is a pastime 
rather than a duty, and yet the pastime has developed 
many features of our national character. Excepting the 
Scotch, and they are near of kin, as models of physical 
beauty where, in all the world, shall we equal our English 
country gentleman ? And yet in how many cases do we 
find that these men seem to live only for the pastime. 
But their pastime developes — what ? A courage which 
in deadly strife or civil action might be directed to na- 
tional and noble purposes — a perseverance and untiring 
energy which courts bold enterprise — a hope and exulta- 
tion (in the "view-halloo" and " death ) which en- 
genders social enthusiasm, developing social respect 
while it promotes good fellowship. 

But to enjoy the sport of hunting there must be foxes. 
It is a marvel of this day, in a county like Yorkshire, 
with a biped population filling all the ground, amidst 
the smoke of coal mines and the noise of manufacture, 
that a snug retreat should still be found for foxes. 
Other kinds of vermin have either totally disappeared 
or are gradually becoming extinct ; foxes remain. Can 
we give any satisfactory reason for this ? I think we 
can. It is because the comfort and increase of foxes are 
strictly preserved. We hear of landlords who give their 
keepers a bonus for every fox-cub which is reared on 
their estates. No matter what destruction accrues to 
the hen roost or the farm-yard the ' ' Reynard family " 
must be protected. In general the fox has a stomach 
above partridge and small ground game ; she likes a 
good plump hen or duck. Even the goose is not an un- 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 109 

gainly bird — too much for one ; she can polish a goose 
nicely. True, where there is a family, Mother Fox will 
let— 

" The little ones pick the bones O." 
Unlike bipeds and other large animals, the fox does not 
get his three or four meals per diem regularly ; so that 
when an opportunity of feeding presents itself he lays 
in a pretty good stock. Farmyards in the neighbourhood 
of woods are most subiect to depredations. Reynard occu- 
pies a snug den in the wood, which may be one of his 
own making, or may be the forsaken hole of a badger. 
Anyhow there he is, and to him no music can be so 
sweet as the cackling and crowing of poultry. True the 
simple duck-note and the gabble of geese are listened to 
with pleasure ; even the bleating of young lambs proves 
an acceptable sound. At midnight, when all the 
farmer's household is asleep, sire fox starts from his den, 
and listens if any biped or canine watchers are about. 
All's serene ; there is not, it may be, a sound stirring, 
save the solitary caw of some awakened rook, or the 
distant hooting of a night-bird : these are unregarded. 
Reynard creeps slyly from the covert, crouching by the 
hedge-rows to where he scents his prey. Just then some 
sleeping hare wakes to devouring fright. A matron 
partridge, crouching o'er her young, proves a sweet 
mouthful. The cunning brute will liberate a rabbit 
from the snare and feast upon him. What mean those 
feathers scattered here and there around the fowler's 
net ? Our fox has got the birds. But these are merely 
" snacks ;" he banquets on the hen-roost. He can get 
in, do not fear. Ilowever high the wall, he will scale 
it ; however strong the barricade, he will invent some 
cunning mode to gain an ingress. There, see, he lifts 
a tile or two, and down he springs amidst his fluttering 
prey — a dozen hens and cock. Numbers of these will 
save themselves by flight, but four or five are killed. 
Then what does Reynard do ? He takes a hen and 
hides it in a bramble ; returns, and finding one uncom- 
mon fat cannot resist the desire to eat it there and then. 
The rest are carried off successively and hidden in various 
places ; but master fox will not forget a spot. Enough 
for one night, so Reynard seeks his den. He scampers 
home. But, caution ! What is that, placed right in 



110 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

front of his hole ? Really and truly there are only two 
pieces of peeled white sticks, planted crossways. They 
were not there when he left home, and he has taken 
too much plunder himself not to know the nature of a 
snare. 0, ! says he to himself, they won't catch a 
fox asleep ; I'll nestle under that furze-hush for the 
night, and investigate this matter in the morniDg But 
little did hereck what would happen on the morrow. An 
earth-stopper, who had cognizance of the fox's domicile, 
had been sent into thewood that night, preparatory to the 
"meet" next day. This man was almost as "cunning as a 
fox." Had he filled up the den's mouth with a few 
shovel's full of earth it might easily have been scrape I 
away ; had he mixed thorns and earth together — acommon 
practice at one time — thorns would make the clearing out 
a little more difficult, and that would be all ; suspicion 
would scarcely have been awakened. 

Morning at length dawns, one of those rare, bright 
January mornings unaccompanied either by frost or rain. 
Two score equestrians, led by a noble master, and 
headed by the " pack" approach cover. The hounds 
are thrown in, a whipper-in standing on each side 
to keep them from straggling. Whisht ! the less noise 
sportsmen make here the better. Of course Reynard 
is scented under the furze-bush, and finding his posi- 
tion untenable he bolts. And now a great deal depends 
upon the huntsman as to whether it will be a good or 
bad "find." The scent is first-rate, therefore, Tally- 
ho ! Hey, Carlo ! and Cyrus ! hark forward ! — good 
dogs ! Sometimes, when first started, a fox will run 
short, particularly where there is an opportunity of con- 
cealing himself ; then, if he gets to earth Reynard 
may be considered lost, since, in nine cases out of ten, 
it will be impossible to dig him out. You cannot tell 
from the opening how far, and under how many knotty 
tree roots his hole may extend. At one time terrier 
dogs, each armed with a collar and bells, were trained 
to enter these holes. It was not intended that the 
terrier should grapple with a fox in its hole, but the 
dog's bark directed the huntsman where to dig, while 
Reynard was kept from shifting his position during the 
operation. 

Ah ! here was the danger— our hounds have been 



RELAl^G TO YORKSHIRE. Ill 

carried beyond the scent. And now Cyrus and Carlo 
and Styx exhibit signs of being at fault. A little en- 
couragement will do good, for hounds like men need 
prompting to duty. If their interest is not kept up by 
a few cheerful words of encouragement the hounds will 
speedily grow careless. But our fox has evidently got 
to earth and now he knows the game no huntsman 
will be able to draw him forth this day. 

Here we will pause, for the reader has been for 
some time nestling about, and making very wry faces : 
he evidently wants to ask a personal question. Ask 
what you will. 

" Are you an old experienced foxhunter ?" 

My dear sir, practically, I am the merest tyro in the 
art. 

" I thought as much." 

" Yes, your narrator is a very novice ; could not 
take a five-barred-gate, or even a moderately high fence 
without breaking his neck, or fracturing a limb at the 
very least ; but, with a hearty appreciation of the sport, 
I have always felt pleasure in picking up odd bits of 
information from the initiated, and must crave pardon 
for any errors of phrase or fact, which an experienced 
foxhunter would, from his superior knowledge avoid. 

But, hark ! there is a shout in the distance, and 
what a chatter that ominous magpie trio does keep up. 
And see, Ajax and those straggling hounds to wind- 
ward have caught the scent, and peel forth welome music. 
A fresh fox, not relishing near him all those sniffing 
noses makes a bolt. And now, Mr. Huntsman, you 
must mind the foremost hounds do not slip down the 
wind and get out of hearing. Hark forward, tantivy ! 
Zounds ! it is a noble sight, enough to make even the 
hypocondriac feel manly. And, for one short hour, 
what is there upon earth that can exceed the fox- 
hunter's joy ? Carking money cares, eating out the 
vitals of genial life, the thirst for office, the desire to 
rule, and be distinguished among men — what are these 
passions, even when crowned with success ? Not worth 
that hour's beatitude of muscular enjoyment. In the 
hunting- field a spirit of emulation is peculiarly noble 
Do we not find envious, jealous enmities surging out of 
political, literary, aye, and even religious coteries ? — 



112 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

and there are no feelings of the human heart so bitter 
as these. Everywhere we see them— except on the 
hunting-field ; here they are forgotten, and, it may be, 
purged out. 

A cynical reader, with no taste for field-sports, tells 
us that we are letting our enthusiasm go far beyond the 
truth : in his opinion fox-hunting is a most dangerous, 
cruel, uncomfortable and selfish game. Let us take 
each objection seriatim. How is it selfish ? Why, 
since falconry is dead fox-hunting is about the only field- 
sport where one can enjoy the companionship of the 
fair-sex. Never mind, my dear sir, whether or not 
you would like a fox-hunting wife : so long as she does 
not leave you at home to nurse the baby, never mind . 
There are times and seasons for everything, and many a 
good wife has come out or" the hunting-field ; the courage 
which she there acquired may be nobly applied in emer- 
gencies of domestic life. The softer, milder traits, are 
what you most admire in woman ? Very proper, too, 
since these qualities are necessary to temper your sur- 
liness. Still, you say it is selfish, in this manner — a 
comrade gets a fall, which dislocates his collar bone, 
or breaks his leg. No one stays to pick him up, or 
pour a word of comfort in his ear ; the hounds are in 
full cry, and neek or nothing, all strive to be in at the 
death. But let the hunt finish ; then see what help 
and sympathy a comrade gains. 

That the sport is dangerous to craven hearts we 
must admit ; also that it is somewhat uncomfortable 
to some "people on a wet day. But how is it cruel ? 
Surely no one will harbour much sympathy for the fox ? 
Assuredly he who has suffered in hen-roost will not. 
And then, as we frequently hear observed, the dogs 
like it, the horses like it, and the men like it. Your 
objection is over-ruled. 

Our fox must be very " strong on the legs," since he 
has led a gallant race for upwards of an hour. There, 
now he doubles and evidently means getting to ground 
in TunswellWood ; bnt he is headed, and five minutes 
afterwards killed, so that there is one fox less left in 
the world. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 113 



The Iron Sinews of Yorkshire, 



A FEW GENERAL REMARKS. 

What a fearful thing it would be if there was no iron 
and no coal ! What should we do for fuel ; how could 
we replace the ten thousand necessary appliances of 
life ; how should we find employment for our teeming 
population ? Consider a moment, what branch of trade 
or manufacture is there which depends not directly or 
indirectly upon iron and coal ? And yet, possibly, there 
may come a time when iron and coal are exhausted. 
But let us cherish hope ; the Omnipotent Designer's 
plans were perfect from the beginning ; they can never 
stultify themselves. The condition of life in future 
ages wiil always find adequate resources constantly de- 
veloping. 

The man of science shakes his head, saying I can 
demonstrate to a certainty that coal will become ex- 
tinct, and soon. Look here, — for it is a simple ques- 
tion of arithmetic, — the coal fields of Great Britain are 
as one to every thirty miles of surface land. In America 
the estimation is one in fifteen. In France one in two 
hundred. It would thus appear that, before mining 
operations commenced, the British Isles possessed about 
142 billion tons of coal ; France about 59, and Belgium 
about 36 billion tons. So far as relates to Great Britain 
much of this liberal store has been got and consumed. 
It is estimated that 62 billion tons have already been 
raised ; so that we have only about 80 billions left. 
At present this consumption from British coal fields is 
at the rate of about 90 million tons a year, and annually 
increasing. But taking the present rate of consumption 
our supply will totally and inevitably cease in about 250 
years. 

If these figures be true (and who can controvert 
them ?), the question of a future supply of fuel (and, as 
a consequence, the means of smelting ore), is becoming 
one of serious importance. " Coal will last my time," 
says one ; " let future generations shift for themselves." 
Scientific men, with a little more philanthropy, ask 

H 



114 STOBIES AND SKETCHES 

Government to pass measures checking all needless ex- 
penditure of coal. It is to be feared that, on this mat- 
ter, legislative enactments would do very little good. 
But it is high time the ingenuity of man was awakened 
to produce light and heat on a larger scale by chemical 
appliances from other substances than coal, and thus 
supplement our diminishing supply of fuel. 

But let us look at the subject from another point of 
view. No essential element of matter is lost. Annually 
so many million tons of coal pass away in smoke. 
What becomes of this smoke ? It would appear that 
the carbon in coal, after being liberated nourishes new 
forests, which in process of time fall, or become 
submerged, and thus fresh coal-fields are reproduced. 
Take as an illustration the great Level of Hatfield 
Chase, and Thorne turf moors in particular. Here there 
is a surface track of decayed vegetable matter, miles in 
extent, ranging from one to twelve feet thick. Now 
we have only to assume a succession of deluges over these 
moors, leaving vast deposits of mud and sand at every 
subsidence, when the superincumbent pressure of the 
upper layers, and chemical action would solidify this 
vegetable miss, thus producing coal. But how long a 
period must transpire before such a result could be 
brought to pass ? It is impossible to give any reliable 
data, because those violent convulsions of our globe, 
and consequent change in the relative position of land 
and water, cannot be ascertained with chronological pre- 
cision. At a rough guess we should infer that Thorne 
Turf Moors would become coal in about a hundred 
thousand years. Unfortunately we cannot afford to wait 
all this time ; the glory of our manufactures will be 
extinguished before then. 

We read of smoke being the food of plants : an 
undue proportion of anything, however, is injurious, 
and in this West-Riding of Yorkshire it would appear 
as if we were poisoning vegetation by too much of that 
which sustains vegetable life. * 

* I had not full confidence in the philosophy of these re- 
marks, and therefore wrote for information to a medical friend, 
who has the reputation of heing " well up in chemistry." 
The following is his reply : — 

" Conckrnino Smokk.— The reasons why plants do not 
flourish in the neighbourhood of smoky chimneys are these— 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 115 

Ah ! says one, this shows how necessary it is that 
furnaces should consume their own smoke. It may 
show quite the reverse, for is it not possible that by 
consuming the smoke you may intensify the evil ? No 
essential element of matter is lost, and many of those 
so called improvements are only laboratories of poison. 
No man will be poisoned by a mouthful of honest smoke, 
but he may be injured by an insidious etherialised 
vapour. Twist the question as we may, the fact re- 
mains that not a particle of matter is lost, so that 
this immense gaseous expansion, artificially liberated 
from coal, is playing some important part in the phy- 
sical economy of our globe. 

There was a time in the history of man when this im- 
mense mineral wealth — coal and metalic ore — lay un- 
appreciated in the bowels of the earth. How did the 
ancients first get the idea of smelting ore ? As well may 
you ask me how they were led to frame speech into a 
language, so that each other one could understand his and 
her thoughts. We will receive the record as true that 
"in the beginning" there was but one man, and after- 
wards one woman. No doubt but that a daemon school- 
master was sent expressly to teach our first parents that 
groundwork of all progress, the denomination of words. 
It is just possible that the nature and application of 

First, the atmosphere is thick, and they do not get enough 
sunlight. Secondly, there is a deposit of particles of carbon 
on the two surfaces of the leaves, which fills up their pores and 
prevents them breathing oxygen gas, the same as if our 
lungs were choked up. Some of the insect tribes, if not all, 
breathe like plants through their skin, having no lungs, and 
to cover them with oil or varnish suffocates them. Thirdly, 
besides the gases useful to vegetable life, chimneys emit others 
which are injurious, viz. — large quantities of ammonia, car- 
buretted hydrogen, with other compounds of carbon and 
sulphur. The plants are poisoned as well as suffocated. It is 
at first sight singular that the artificial decomposition of vege- 
tation (i. e. coal) should be hurtful, whilst it is so fertilising 
when produced by sunlight and air under natural conditions. 
The explanation I give is that the high temperature of a 
furnace-heat resolves the matter into unwholesome combina- 
tions, besides liberating such volumes of unconsumed carbon 
in the form of smoke." 

This congealed smoke, encasing the leaves was what Earl 
Fitzwilliam lately directed attention to in the shrubberies of 
Mr. Brown, of Rossington, and which his lordship not un- 
naturally supposed had travelled from Sheffield, a distance ex- 
ceeding twenty miles. 

h3 



116 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

minerals may have been found out by accident. One of 
those ancient men perhaps saw a little molten stream 
running out of the fire, which, cooling, became a hard 
and solid mass, capable of breaking sticks. He would 
naturally conclude, first, that it was melted from some 
common material which he had heaped upon the fire, 
and, secondly, that it might be fashioned while in a 
molten state into any practical instrument which he 
could desire. And thus in respect to coal, it might ac- 
cidentally hare been discovered that a certain black 
earthy matter would sustain flame and produce heat. 
But, one may ask, how did man first get the idea and 
means of kindling a fire, for the combination of steel, 
flint, and tinder, is comparatively of recent date ? Even 
the method of rubbing two sticks together — that ancient 
appliance of savage tribes — is based upon the knowledge 
that sticks contain caloric, and that friction will pro. 
duce flame. Alas ! curious reader, we seem to find as 
much mystery in tracing the origin of many common 
customs as we meet with in investigating the nature of 
things per se. Why do we not content ourselves with 
one sufficient fact, that the Divine Being uses all crea- 
tion as an instrument to carry on his vast designs ! 

In the early age there lived a man called Jubal, and 
God had put some music in his soul. He could hear 
spirit-tones murmuring through the trees, a chorus in 
the dashing waterfall ; and when the sea was troubled 
he would listen, rapt with the deep, majestic symphony. 
His half-brother, Tubal-cain (a cunning man), had learnt 
the use oE metals ; and thus, through many happy years 
they worked together, combining art and music ; Jubal 
became " the father of all such as handle the harp and 
organ," and Tubal-cain was an " instructor of every 
artificer in brass and iron." A specimen, or even a 
diagram of those earliest musical instruments, or works 
in metal, would have a special interest for us now. 
Certainly they would excite surprise, and, it may be, 
contempt ; still, when men lived to an immense age, 
with fewer purposes to distract their attention, those 
long years of labour would surely present some remark- 
able result. 

We cannot stay to glance at the working cf metal 
when Babylon and Ninevah were in their glory, but 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 117 

must restrict these feeble researches to our own isles. 
It is now matter of dispute whether or not the ancien 
Britons knew the use of coal as fuel. Numerous blocks 
of coal, collected for some purpose, have been found 
below the Roman roads, and in other places, associated 
with remains evidently British. The most probable in- 
ference is, that these fragments of coal were intended 
for being worked into personal ornaments. But could 
the old inhabitants produce metals ? Had they any 
iron ? Some point to those early stone axes, and arrow- 
heads of flint as proof that the ancient Britons did not 
know the use of iron. But this argument is not quite 
conclusive, inasmuch as it might be urged that those 
implements of stone would be common simply because 
they were more easily procured. It is difficult to im- 
agine, also, how ever these could be fashioned without 
the use of metal tools. 

The neighbourhood of Malton, in this county, is rich 
in British and Roman remains. These have been ex- 
posed on several occasions by railway cuttings duringthe 
last sixteen years — here a large British stone cairn, 
there a Roman encampment, yonder a tumulus. Around 
the encampments are scattered immense quantities of 
animal bones, fragments of pottery and domestic 
utensils, a few iron arrow heads and Roman coins. In 
the Roman tumuli, besides the human body, not yet 
mouldered away, one or two splendid urns of Roman 
pottery were discovered, and on two occasions a copper 
coin. In the centre of these British barrows human 
remains have been found, in one place associated with 
a rode urn, and some flint instruments, in another with 
a bone pin, but never, so far as our knowledge extends, 
have these memorials of British art contained any in- 
struments or ornaments the product of metals. It has 
been contended that iron was so valuable as to be used 
for currrency, according to weight. Caesar, whose ob- 
servations of this country were no doubt accurate, so 
far as they extended, says: — "They (the Britons) use 
brass money, and iron rings of a certified weight. The 
provinces remote from the sea produce tin, and those 
upon the coast iron ; but the latter in small quantities. 
All their brass is imported." We must bear in mind, 
however, that, before this time, the Phoenician zner* 



118 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

chants had brought their treasures to barter for our tin, 
lead, &c. Nor must we forget that the intercourse be- 
tween the British Isles and Gaul, consequent upon the 
Druid institutions, was very intimate, so that it will not 
be irrational to conclude that the two countries, in re- 
spect to art possessions, would closely resemble each 
other. That these Roman soldiers were not only better 
disciplined but better accoutred for war, is abundantly 
evident. The invading coherts had small but sharp and 
well-tempered swords, not much unlike a Turkish 
scimiter. They came also with buckler, shield, and 
helmet. All of metal ? No, formed of wood, and 
usually covered with skins or leather. Some of these 
shields were encased with thin iron plates, while others 
had rings of iron binding them together. Soldiers of 
rank wore the lorica or cuirass, a coat of mail made of 
leather and covered with iron plates or rings twisted 
round each other, the lattter being a primitive chain- 
armour. Thus equipped they advanced with slings 
(leaden balls being frequently used), javelins, and their 
sharp-pointed scimiters. The Gauls used only a long 
heavy sword, which required both hands to weild^ and 
plenty of room. These swords were of so bad a temper 
as to be soon bent against the Roman bucklers, and often 
their owners were slain before they had time to 
straighten them with the foot. 

That our Roman victers practiced the smelting of 
metals in this country is evident from the existence of 
numerous beds of cinders in which Roman coins and in- 
struments are found. These ancient remains are re- 
stricted to our mineral counties, being mostly observable 
near the forest of Dean, or Arden, as it was originally 
termed. 

In the ninth century we find a grant of land made by 
the Abbey of Peterborough, which amounts to a trans- 
fer for certain considerations, namely — one night's en- 
tertainment of the monks (no mean item), ten vessels 
of Welsh and two of common ale, sixty cart loads of 
wood, and twelve of pit coal. This shews that the prac- 
tice of mining, which necessitates the use of iron instru- 
ments, was somewhat advanced. After the Norman 
Conquest, heavy armour and weapons of steel called in 
requisition much labour and skill in the working of 
metals. Every man of rank kept his own smith, who 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 119 

took charge of his arms and accoutrements.^ But, 
perhaps, the first great impetus was given to mining and 
smelting operations during the reign of Henry III. 
There is a patent roll of this monarch extant entitled, 
" De Forgeis Cevandis in foresta de Dean." Also a 
charter dated 1272, giving the inhabitants of Newcastle 
license to dig coal. 



SMELTINa THE ORE. 

For smelting purposes it must be of special import* 
ance that furnaces should be erected where there is 
plenty of ironstone and abundance of coal. An im- 
portant item of carriage is saved when all the materials 
can be dug from the neighbouring hill and valley, instead 
of having to convey them forty miles, or more. Except- 
ing the counties of Staffordshire and Durham, no dis- 
trict in England combines these advantages to so great 
an extent as the West (and that extreme portion of the 
North) Riding of Yorkshire. For proof of this superi- 
ority we need but point to the immense undertakings at 
Bowling and Low Moor. And yet this West Riding is 
more famed for its coal-mines than its ironstone. Per- 
haps, even now, however, we but partially appreciate 
the mineral wealth of our hills and dales. Just across 
the Trent, near the boundaries of this county, there is 
a vast field of ironstone, most excellent in quality. Ten 
years ago nobody knew of it ; neither scientific men nor 
landed proprietors ever suspected the existence of this 
mineral wealth. Verily until our eyes are opened we 
may walk daily upon a mountain of gold, and say — 
Pooh ! it is naught ! Afterwards, when the secret is 
discovered, knowing men take advantage of their neigh- 
bour's ignorance.* I believe this ore is brought, via 

* The Court of Equity, it appears, will protect a man from 
mistake, even when the act amounts to a legal transfer of his 
property. We have a case in point, relating to the locality in 
question. A small proprietor sells a portion of his land, in 
ignorance of its value ; the huyer knew that it contained iron- 
stone, the seller did not. After the estate had been paid for 
and properly conveyed, the man who was over-reached takes 
his case before the High Court of Chancery, and obtains a 
decree to nullify the bargain. 



120 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

Thorne and Doncaster, to our principal ironworks at 
moderate rates of freight, since the immense mineral 
trains which carry down South Yorkshire coal, to be 
shipped at Keadby, may as well bring this stone back as 
return empty. As might be expected, smelting furnaces 
are now being erected on this Lincolnshire side of the 
Trent where the ironstone lays ; and it is easy to predict 
that, in twenty years time, a large manufacturing popula- 
tion will drive away the sheep from those quiet hills. 
It will be of increased advantage if new coal-fields should 
be opened out in the immediate neighbourhood of this 
ironstone. But our province is in Yorkshire, and we 
shall confine this survey to the vast and extending 
manufactures around Rotherham and Sheffield. We 
leave the railway train at Rawmarsh Station, and 
advance up a gentle acclivity to Park-gate, names 
significant of a bygone age, when the adjacent Don, by 
frequent inundations, made the low land into a perfect 
marsh, and when the site of these ironworks was really 
the gate of Aldwarke Park. Even now the works 
might be considered inconveniently near to Aldwarke 
Hall and grounds, were the gentle proprietor fastidious 
on the question of smoke. But Mr. Foljambe is too 
sensible and philanthropic a man to oppose the progress 
of local industry and national wealth. There is a score 
of black square funnels emitting fierce columns of flame, 
with half a dozen chimneys of larger girth and altitude, 
pouring out now dense clouds, and anon thin streamlets 
of smoke. Here, at Park-gate, smelting of ore is not 
the sole, or even the principal branch of trade ; armour 
plates, locomotive rails, boiler-plates, bar and hoop- 
iron, castings, &c, form altogether an immense pro- 
duct of manufacture. But what is that great cone of 
brickwork with a parapet round the top ? It can be 
nothing else than a smelting furnace, and to this spot 
we will first direct our attention. 

There is a quietness here, which contrasts visibly 
with the ceaseless whirl of machinery, and the rapid, 
orderly motions of a thousand hands under the neigh- 
bouring sheds. Here two or three men were silently 
making grooves in a floor of sand. Two or three men 
had squeezed themselves into a little cabin, and were 
silently enjoying their "baccay." Two or three carts 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 121 

were shooting loads of brown heavy earth into a con- 
venient heap. It did not strike me at first that this 
was the veritable ore. And yet it looked not at all like 
furnace-sand. Taking a little in hand I enquired of 
the carter — 

"What is this for?" 

" Why, its for to make pig on." 

" Ha," said I, "this is ironstone !" 

"You've got it now," said he. 

A grisly head then protruded from the cabin's nar- 
row doorway. The head made no remark, but a wreath 
of smoke curled round a short black pipe. Close by 
stood the hoist, and I noticed that its floor or cradle 
contained a barrow of this ironstone and a barrow of 
coke. A smaller barrow or truck stood near, filled with 
limestone, and another filled with what looked like 
foundry dross, but which I afterwards learnt was com- 
posed of metal retrieved from the waste-heaps, and 
intended for a second smelting. I asked the grisly head 
if he was foreman over this furnace. "Noa," said he, 
"John Cross is th'keeper," and just at this moment 
that powerfully-moulded individual made his appear- 
ance . Having satisfied him that my visit was perfectly 
legitimate, and also that I had obtained authority for 
prying, sturdy John Cross, or cross John asked if we 
were going to put up some furnaces ! 

"No," said I, "but if you are not careful of your 
speech I shall put you into a book." 

" I see ; yau're wun o' them London chaps." 

" Mr. Sanderson (the general manager) has just warned 
me not to run away with one of the big engines, as they 
have so much work for them to do at present." 

Big John laughed furiously. 

I expressed surprise that the ironstone was not kiln- 
dried before being put into the furnace. 

John winked at the grisly head in the cabin doorway. 

I enquired what proportions of stone and fuel were 
used. 

"Fetch him th' book:" this was John's command ; 
whereupon the regular journal was thrust through the 
cabin door. From this it appears that a " charge" cou- 
sists of ironstone 20cwt., coal 5 cwt., coke 3 cwt. 1 qr., 
lime 1 cwt., and 4 cwt. of melted cinder, which charges 



122 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

are repeated (if I remember rightly) about every hour. 
Presently a hand began to use a lever, when I found 
that the hoist was worked by hydraulic power. A man, 
who was going up with the charge, invited me to ac- 
company him ; then I could see how the stuff was poured 
in through little side doors from the barricade, near the 
•rater's mouth. The very invitation awakened curio- 
sity. If one could but look down this huge, roaring 
cauldron, what sight would the inside present ? Per- 
haps its contents would seem like a bubbling mess, the 
froth (i.e., dross) at the top, with liquid ore, a pool of 
molten fire underneath. Perhaps I should see nothiDg, 
but only get stifled with smoke. Aye, there's the rub ! 

11 You'd better get in," said the man; and he stepped 
into the cradle himself by way of example. 

'• No, thank you ; it is better to understand the pro- 
cess without mounting to the top ; such, at least, is my 
opinion." 

• • 'May'be ye' re asthmatical ? There's no danger, for, 
d'ont you see, the gang-way is a good bit below the 
smoke." 

Evidently it was so ; still I declined to ascend. There 
is nothing like terra-firma. 

As the hoist was ascending I turned to John Cross. 
" You do not light this furnace every day ?" I enquired. 
John said they did'nt. So far as his knowledge ex- 
tended, the furnace had never been blown out, night nor 
day, nor Sunday, for six years, except for a few minutes 
at a time, while they were casting, i.e., running off the 
metal ; the blast never ceased all the year round. Then 
what becomes of the dross, I enquired, does the furnace 
never want cleaning out ? John said it never did ; be- 
cause the dross was constantly oosing out in a melted 
state, which I should view presently. This brought to 
mind how I had seen the turnpike roads mended with a 
streaky, glossy material, like glazed earthenware : it was 
furnace dross. 

But how was the blast obtained? For an expla- 
nation of this process I was referred to the engine-tender ; 
and he very readily volunteered information. Two 
steam engines are employed to pump air into a vast 
cylinder or receiving box, thence through underground 
pipes to the smelting furnace. Before this blast reaches 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE, 123 

the latter, however, it is heated, for those currents, 
however compressed and propelled, contain moisture, 
and moisture not only deadens flame, but deteriorates 
the metal. Those hot-air ovens have the appearance of 
an immense brick-kiln, under which are eight fires, the 
flame being carried by multitubular pipes, through the 
blast. The three tubes or tuyers, as they are called, 
which carry the blast into the smelting furnace, are by 
this means rendered so hot that I could scarcely bear to 
touch them. Hence the origin of what is termed "hot 
blasts," which not only give superior quality to the iron 
but tend to economise fuel. 

But talk was not suffered to interfere with work. 
Long ago, John Cross gave me intimation that he must 
get ready for casting ; so while the Engineer and I were 
analyzing the blast in its circuitous course, our furnace 
keeper had got his floor scientifically grooved and pre- 
pared. 

The apertures from the furnace are made with sand, 
which the intense heat soon renders hard as stone. The 
keeper with a long iron gavelock made a hole through 
the baked sand at a higher elevation, and at some dis- 
tance from the grooves. Out flowed an opaque, cream- 
like stream, which I conjectured at once must be the 
molten dross before mentioned. While sturdy John 
stood accelerating the slow exit of this cooling dross, I 
began again to ply him with questions. 

'* When do you begin to tap the metal ?" 

What time is it now ? 

"Half -past twelve." 

"We shall begin at one o'clock." 

"How many times do you tap the furnace in a week ?" 

"In a week ?" said he, with a slight twist of the 
upper lip — we cast three times a day j every eight 
hours." 

"Night and day?" 

"Night and day." 

•• And how much metal do you produce in twenty- 
four hours !" I enquired. 

" From sixteen to eighteen tons." 

Well, thought I to myself, it is not a great deal for 
such a large furnace, with two engines and a noteworthy 
blast to produce. I could not help observing that six- 



124 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

teen or eighteen tons of pig daily was but a small supply 
for such extensive works as Parkgate. John informed 
me that they had two other furnaces at the Holmes, 
about a mile distant, which smelted twice as much 
more, and all this is mixed with Staffordshire and other 
iron. 

One o'clock soon arrived, and there was a great 
breaking with the gavelock of the lower sand-door, 
which was directly over the main channel leading to 
those little grooves and pansbons for pig. The door was 
difficult to break through, and required hard and con- 
tinued strokes of the gavelock to force an entrance. At 
length it yielded in the centre, when forth issued such 
a bright stream of molten liquid that I was perfectly 
dazzled with its brightness. People say that on a dark 
night it is almost impossible to look upon it — the gleam 
is so fiercely dazzling. This I can readily believe. Down 
rolls the liquid fire, not like the molten dross, in tardy 
evolutions, but with an active flow, soon filling the pans 
and channelled grooves, as the flood gates of each set are 
consecutively opened, while the aperture above, formed 
by the egress of this metal (the blast still going on) 
caused a fierce flame to rage through that high door, 
thus accelerating the motion of this dross. And now 
the engine is stopped, the blast ceases, the grooves and 
pans are fully of liquid fire, which, gradually cooling, 
bear on their surface a metallic tinge. I speed a par- 
ting token to the furnace keeper and the engine-tender, 
and leave Parkgate, with a firm resolve to re-visit it 
again at some convenient opportunity. 



RELA1IKG TO YORKSHIRE. 125 



PUDDLING AND ROLLING. 

Pig-iron varies a great deal in quality, partly owing 
to the combustible matter associated in smelting it, but 
more from the intrinsic nature of the ore. Thus some 
kinds of pig are most adapted for the forge, others for 
the foundry. But even of forge and foundry iron there 
are different descriptions according to the preponder- 
ance or otherwise of carbon acquired in the manufac- 
ture. That iron which contains the smallest propor- 
tion of carbon, and is capable of the least degree of 
liquefaction, being the hardest, is most suitable for the 
forge. I could easily imagine, from having once seen 
a smelting furnace tapped, that all such iron will neces- 
sarily contain a mixture of dross and other impurities ; 
it must, therefore, be refined. This is done by subject- 
ing the metal to a very intense heat in smaller furnaces, 
and afterwards, in some cases, suddenly cooling it with 
water. 

If it will please the reader to follow us, we will take 
another brief survey of Park-gate ironworks. Not far 
from that great cone where the ore is smelted stands 
a refining furnace ; indeed, the blast, both for smelt- 
ing and refining, is derived from the same reservoir of 
compressed air. Although a cold and sleety day, we 
shall keep at a respectful distance from that raging fire. 
Is there anything in the world so powerful as the in- 
tensity of flame ? Not anything. And yet how ad- 
mirably it can be directed or controlled. In that huge 
smelting cone this power is hidden from the casual ob- 
server, or seen only by its effects once in eight hours, 
when the molten stream is liberated. In this refining 
furnace, however, the flame is open and exposed, heat- 
ing the atmosphere for many yards round. This 
furnace is tapped every two hours, the dross run- 
ning in an upper and the metal in an under stratum. 
As we may imagine, the iron deteriorates in weight by 
this method of refining ; indeed, there is a great amount 
of waste to be allowed for in every process to which it 
is subjected. I have heard people say, with a very 
significant nod — "The iron trade is like coining!" 



126 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

drawing their marging of profit between 77s. per cwt., 
the price of pig metal, and nine guineas, the 
present value of bar iron, allowing only for 
the expenses of working. They do not take 
into account the great waste of metal, amounting, in 
many cases, to considerably more than a third. That 
immense fortunes have attended the iron and steel 
trades we very well know. By-and-bye, we may have 
occasion to notice how such results have been and are 
produced. In these times of unlimitable limited Joint- 
Stock Companies, however, it is of some importance 
that the public should not be led away by superficial 
impressions. 

But let us hasten to the puddling. The refined iron 
is broken up and weighed out for the next melting pro- 
cess, the quantity being regulated according to the 
article to be manufactured, about 4 cwt. most com- 
monly going to a charge. Every one passing through 
the iron districts has observed numerous stacks of chim- 
neys, something like twenty or thirty feet high, crowned 
with iron dampers. Many a time, particularly on dark 
nights, have we seen a lurid glare flaming upward to 
this great height, when the damper is raised, giving a 
vivid idea of the intense heat which must rage in the 
heart of this furnace. There puddling is done. There 
is no blast employed, the reverberating or puddling 
furnace being so constructed that a natural draught or 
current of air to the chimney accomplishes all that is 
desired. The furnaces are fed from ordinary grates, 
with the ashpits sunk into the floor ; the iron, however, 
is not put amongst the fuel, but at a distance above the 
grate, through which the flame rages, soon reducing the 
refined iron to a seething mass. The foreman opened a 
little door to show me the stuff, which he said was like 
" barm working in a pot." The simile was not without 
its appropriateness, only instead of a dull whitey brown- 
ness, the bubbling iron assumed a bright yellow colour, 
a thousand times brighter than burnished gold. A man 
commenced stirring this yeasty mass with a long poker, 
changing the latter frequently, or it would soon melt at 
the end. By being often stirred the entire mass is not 
only resolved to an equable heat, but loses by evapora- 
tion its former fluidity ; it is then separated into two or 
more balls in the furnace, each one consecutively being 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 127 

lifted out and worked. I could not help admiring the 
wonderful strength and ingenuity of these men in hand- 
ling the immense red-hot balls. One at a time they are 
jerked from the furnace, and, drawn along the smooth 
iron floor with long pincers to the steam-hammer. 
Down comes the ponderous foot upon the glowing ball, 
with a power equal to many hundred tons weight, forth 
issues a thick rain of fire, flying to a considerable dis- 
tance. Incautiously I placed myself in front of this 
hammer, at about ten yards in advance, and was soon 
covered with red-hot hail. No doubt my clothes, al- 
though of thick woollen cloth, would have been severely 
burnt had not one of the workmen knocked the sparks 
off with his cap, and drawn me under the protection of 
an iron screen. I asked if the workmen were not some- 
times injured, even blinded by these sparks. Yes, 
sometimes they were. A man was pointed out working 
with a shade over one eye, who had been rendered half- 
sightless by a similar casualty. Generally, however, 
the workmen manage to turn aside or run away before 
the sparks can hurt them . A lad who stood near had 
his fustian trousers set on fire, and a hole nearly as 
large as a plate was burnt in them. The lad exhibited 
no fear, however, but made jest of the matter, as he 
kept nipping out the ignited tinder with his woollen 
cap. AH this time the man at the steam-hammer (who, 
I observed, was encased in fire-proof leggings) kept 
turning the ball or ingot until it was reduced to nearly 
half its former diameter, and fashioned square like a 
brick. He then drew it on a little hand-lurrey to a 
pair of heavy rollers (roughing-rollers, I believe they are 
called) ; the ingot was drawn through these, then back 
again (that immense pressure causing a further ebuli- 
tion of sparks), the whole time required for hammering 
and rolling this shapeless mass into a plate of iron not 
occupying many seconds. 

What next ? Well, the rolled plate (more than an 
inch thick, and about two feet wide) is taken to a pair 
of shears and clipped. Clipped ? Yes. Hammering 
and rolling has made the iron malleable ; it cannot now 
easily be broken, so it must be clipped. I noticed 
several of these shears, constantly opening and shutting, 
which are worked by a kind of excentric underneath the 



128 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

floor. Should the reader ever come into propinquity 
with such a monster, let him restrain the impulse to put 
his hand within the gaping mouth. A workman, to 
show me its power, placed the end of a locomotive rail 
between the opening gap. It cut the iron rail through 
with as much ease as a knife dividing a pound of butter ; 
aye, and as quickly. The rolled plate is cut up into 
convenient pieces and thrown upon a heap. A number 
of these pieces are then weighed, and placed in what is 
called a ' ' balling furnace. " The iron has lost its former 
fluidity (it is wrought iron now), and can simply be 
heated. When taken out from the furnace the pieces 
adhere, it is true, but they are not assimulated ; you 
may easily count the number of red-hot strata. After 
the combined lump was placed upon the lurrey, the 
question arose in my mind, What is it intended for — a 
bar (square or round), a plate, or a locomotive-rail ? It 
is put through a number of grooved rollers, gradually 
diminishing, until it is rolled or grooved out the re- 
quired size and form — a locomotive-rail five feet long, 
and weighing a quarter of a ton. 

Wonderful is the appliance of machinery, especially 
in the working of metals ! They leaven the pig-iron as 
if it was corn-flour, and make no more difficulty of the 
molten dough than a simple country wench does with 
her panchon of paste ; with this difference, that what 
the united strength of a thousand men could not per- 
form, is easily effected byhalf-a-dozen hands feeding 
and directing an immense kneeding machinery. 

At Park-gate Ironworks everything is done, appa- 
rently, with such little effort — the rush of air to the 
smelting and puddling fui-naces, the rapid whirl of fly 
and driving-wheels, the blows of the steam-hammer and 
crocodile, a kind of tilt-hammer, all these immense 
corces combined make less noise than one creaking wheel- 
barrow on the footpath. 

A stranger to trade might imagine that the financial 
affairs of such large undertakings must necessarily, at 
times, result in confusion. Nothing of the kind. It is 
possible to work a great company with as much safety 
and simplicity as the trade of a country ironmonger, 
who retails his penny-worth of tenpenny nails. The 
principle adopted is one of mutual contract. An order 
comes in for a certain quantity and discription of rails, 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 129 

or bars, or plates, at a given price. The foreman over 
each department undertakes to do the labour at fixed 
rates, so that the general manager has but to supply 
proper material, and see that the quality of work coin- 
cides with the contract. One scarcely knows which to 
admire most, the sinewy strength displayed by some of 
these workmen or their dexterity. With what ease one 
of them can turn that big red-hot ball under the ham- 
mer, and afterwards direct it through the rollers. It 
seems but like a child handling his toy in play. Two 
men, with long pincers, take up a rail weighing a quarter 
of a ton, and lift it a considerable distance. I like to 
see men go about their work adroitly, without muddle- 
duddle, or blundering. Why should not a workman be 
a genius in his trade, feeling a delight and nobility in 
doing what no one, or very few besides himself can do ? 
And who can tell how much the mechanical glory and 
supi'emacy of England depends upon that man's efforts ? 
Under any circumstances the l'esult of his labour is 
useful. Even the situation of a puddler entails some 
responsibility. He must exercise discretion in melting 
his iron ; if it is not properly stirred the condition be- 
comes irregular ; if it be taken from the furnace too 
soon, i.e. in a semi-fluid state, the stuff is not so good, 
while if it remains in the furnace too long it is burnt, 
and thus rendered almost worthless. Besides, however 
easily it may appear to us to be done, such labour is 
very hard and exhausting. The puddlers ought to be 
well paid. 

But, say you, these men do the woi-k, and the masters 
or shareholders — whoever they may be — devour the pro- 
fits. Reader, are you a Radical ? I fear much that 
you are a thorough Radical ; and a Radical ought not to 
live. But, as such a one is in life, why, he must be 
born again ; conversion is absolutely necessary. Will 
there not be masters and workmen until the end of the 
world ? But, it is urged, men who employ a great num- 
ber of hands, and risk great capital, sometimes get 
enormously wealthy. And sometimes they fail, losing, 
perhaps, the accumulated store of their forefathers, 
and the labour of years. Competition is very rife now, 
and there are a hundred vicissitudes in trade which a 
capitalist would escape if he were to invest money only 

1 



130 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

in tangible securities. But then how many thousands 
of hands would be idle, and how many millions of de- 
pendent mouths would gape hopelessly for food. The 
Apostle James has anathematized those rich men who 
withhold from labourers their due. But in this year of 
grace, when "times are good," and the influence of 
labour seems to be paramount, a r e not the workmen 
themselves becoming somewhat despotic ? Are they not, 
in these prosperous days, spurred on to dictate terms in 
the spirit of tyranny, put the master to the alternative 
either to give sixpence or a shilling per day more wage, 
or let expensive works decay in rust and ruin ? It 
may be, in a large firm, that the 2s. or 3s. per 
ton extra would make all the difference between a 
profit and loss to the manufacturer. Almost every 
town and neighbourhood is cursed by some men- 
dacious, unscrupulous demagogue. Of this stamp are 
political nondescripts and agents of trades-unions, who 
find agitation a more congenial mode of living than 
work. These persons are ever ready to fight a battle 
for the working man ; and after a great deal of gammon 
they send the hat round. Depend upon it those only 
do well who rely, not upon Acts of Parliament, or trades- 
union resolutions, but upon their own thrift and indi- 
vidual improvement. When the working-man has 
got a little freehold, or a hundred pounds in the bank, 
all of his own earning, he feels the dignity of citizen- 
ship, and knows how to estimate the frothy declama- 
tion of designing knaves. The constitution of Eng- 
land is both liberal and just. If this self-reliant 
working-man has a son, and there is the right stamina 
in him, what is to prevent that son taking rank with 
the highest in the land ? Nothing. The history of our 
own times is fruitful in instances. I have heard that 
the puddlers of Park-gate, after paying their subordi- 
nates, clear five and even six pounds a week for them- 
selves. And it is so throughout the trade. If I could 
speak to these iron men of Yorkshire altogether, this 
would be my friendly advice— Enjoy yourselves— you 
have a right to do it— for hard work requires the best 
of meat and drink to keep the physical energies r'rora 
flagging; but hit the happy medium : when you have 
bid enough of meat and drink stop. Enjoy yourselves, 



JteLATIlTG TO YORKSHIRE. 131 

for the busy bees have most right to a taste of their 
own honey ; but the winter of life will come, when 
there is no food abroad or no energy to gather it : 
therefore you should always have a little store in re- 
serve. I know that your prodigal generosity brings gain 
into the pockets of frugal men, and not unfrequently 
enriches a whole neighbourhood ; but take care of Num- 
ber One ; above all things take care of your families, 
for the scripture maxim is true — " He that provides 
not for his own, especially for those of his own house, 
has denied the faith and is worse than an infidel." 



18 



132 stories And sketches 



Masbrough Old Iron Works. 



In 1746 the Messrs. Walker began tbeir famous iron- 
works at a place called the Holmes, near Masbrough . 
The firm consisted of Samuel and Aaron and Jonathan, 
but Samuel was chief — a man of great ingenuity, and 
greater resolution. The neighbourhood, even now, 
abounds with instances of self made ironmasters, men 
who have gained a high social position and much wealth 
as the reward of their own individual exertions. Yet 
demagogues assert that the constitution of England is 
not favourable to plebeian enterprise. God help the 
nation when demagogues shall rule, and poor men 
look to legislative enactments as a substitute for per- 
sonal efforts ! 

I have been able to glean but few particulars respect- 
ing the early struggles of this brave Sam Walker ; his 
public history dates chiefly from the time when he be- 
came a rich man. It is only then that true character 
is appreciated ; of the great struggle to win — how step 
by step this man worked himself into the foremost rank 
of iron-manufacturers we have scarcely any record. 
Thus much we know, however — at twelve years of age 
Samuel Walker became an orphan ; there were three 
brothers and four sisters left to push their way unaided 
througb the world. Samuel qualified himself to be- 
come a schoolmaster, and did, for some time, teach 
rustic children in the little hamlet of Gunnowside. 
But he always displayed a strong impulse for mechanics, 
so that his leisure hours were passed in mending clocks 
and making sundials. It was while fixing one of the 
latter at Burness Hall that Sir Wm. Horton remarked 
to a visitor — " This Sam Walker will one day ride in his. 
carriage." The Walker Brothers must have either made 
or borrowed some money before they could commence 
those iron works at Masbrough, which were never in- 
significant, and ultimately became one of the most im- 
portant foundries in the world. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 133 

It strikes me that a practical man, well conversant 
with bis subject and tbe neighbourhood, might write a 
very interesting volume upon the origin and progress of 
these ironworks. First of all—he would have to con- 
sider the national history of our iron trade a hundred 
and twenty years ago. How did it stand then ? About 
the middle of last century there were but sixty smelting 
furnaces in England and Wales, producing annually 18,000 
tons of pig-iron.* Great Britain now smelts above 
four and a-half million tons a year — more than all 
Europe put together. During nearly the whole of last 
century the British iron trade might be considered as 
decayed. There had been more iron made here in 
earlier times. Towai'ds the close of the 13th century 
there were above 40 forges leased of the Crown in the 
Forest of Dean. In his Treatise of Metallica, published 
1612, Sturtevant estimates the number of iron-mills 
in England and Wales at eight hundred, four hundred 
of which were situate in Surrey, Kent, and Sussex. 
About this period our iron manufacturers were busily 
engaged opening out and re-smelting great beds of 
scorise, which the Piomans had left in many parts of 
the country, deriving thereby much very good iron.f 

Strange, one will say, that the iron sinews of our 
country should not have been developed according to the 
national bulk and importance. We must take all the 
circumstances into account. Until towards the close of 
last century nearly all iron was smelted with charcoal, 
just as it is manufactured in Russia and Sweden now. 

* At the close of last century pig-iron was taxed, and the 
returns issued in 1796 shew that there were 121 furnaces in 
Great Britain, yielding annually 180,000 tons. In 1827 we 
have 284 furnaces, producing 690,000 tons, of which 24 furnaces 
only belonged to Yorkshire, yielding 43,000 tons of metal. 
In 1836 the production amounted to about a million tons. 

t Although the Romans knew and practised the use of 
" foot-blasts" they generally built their furnaces on the hill- 
tops, getting the draught from holes in the sides ; but only a 
small proportion of the ore was smelted by this process. I 
have observed several ef these ancient cinder-beds in the 
neighbourhood of Leeds, and in the valley south of Dewsbury. 
It has been remarked that the scoriae of these furnaces on the 
hill-tops contain the largest proportion of metal, well repaying 
the expense of resmelting, while those in the valleys which are 
supposed to be more recent, and to have been planted after the 
ntrodution of air-bellows, contain scarcely any metal. 



134 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

But for many years previously our forests had been 
gradually diminishing, and the public outcry aganst this 
threatened extermination of woods had been loud and 
long. So rapidly were the forests disappearing that 
during the reign of Queen Elizabeth, an act was passed 
to prevent the felling of timber for the purpose of 
making charcoal in all counties except Sussex, and some 
parts of Kent. The growth of wood is slow. No one 
need wonder at these statutory limitations, when he 
considers that it required eleven cords of wood to pro- 
duce a single ton of bar-iron, so that the consump- 
tion of wood, even at the period when only 18,000 
tons of iron were smelted annually would compre- 
hend very many acres. The mechanical appliances for 
the blast were at this time very imperfect, so that a 
a great deal more charcoal was used than would be re- 
quired for the same purposes now. First of all the ore 
was calcined, or roasted. A layer of charcoal was laid 
in a kind of oven, then a layer of ironstone, then 
another layer of charcoal, and so on until the mass 
reached about a yard high. The charcoal was then fired 
from the bottom, when, in process of time, the whole 
mass cohered, but without being melted. It was then 
broken up and placed in the smelting furnace, under 
which an immense bed of charcoal was lighted. After 
two days burning the flame was intensified by the blast 
from bellows worked by two or three men, and they 
" cast ' about once a week, producing trom six to ten 
tons of pig-iron. 

During the first half of last century, as we have seen, 
iron smelting had dwindled into a very narrow compass, 
because wood charcoal was not to be had. And yet for 
Eussian and Swedish iron England was the best custo- 
mer in the world. The importation of bar iron from 
Russia then amounted to 50,000 tons per annum, the 
average price being £35 per ton ; in addition to which 
we took 20,000 tons of Ore ground iron from Sweden, 
our annual imports amounting in the aggregate to some- 
thing like a quarter of a million sterling. At this 
period Swedish iron paid a duty of £2 8s. Od. per ton. 
In 1751 application was made to Parliament for the 
admission of bar-iron duty free from our own colonies, 
and after various struggles (which always accrue when 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 135 

personal selfishness clashes with the public good) the 
contending pirties seemed to compromise their differ- 
ences iiy pissing a law for the importation of American 
iron duty tree into the port ot' London only, continuing 
the restrictions upon all other ports in the kingdom. 
This was practically negativing the whole proposition, 
since the expense of getting coal or chm coal to London 
(principally on account of the heavy imposts charged at 
that port) rendered the formation of ironworks in the 
metropolis quite unieniunerative, and there was a res- 
triction prohibiting the removal of American iron to a 
greater distance than ten miles for *he city ol London. 

It seems strange to'u- that the smelting of iron ore 
by pit coal should be a thing of such recent application. 
It appears that two centuries ago, and more, people had 
♦'notions" about it, just as we may have of apply- 
ing hydraulic power to dispense with steam, or making 
sin international viaduct. But the thing had to be 
done. First of all came the manufacture and introduc- 
tion of coke. No doubt the idea would arise that as 
charcoal is half burnt wood, so coal might be calcined in 
the same way. But it was not until many years after- 
wards that the introduction of lime as a flux was first 
thought of. Small portions of iron had been smelted 
with coke by theapplication of what was then con- 
sidered powerful bellows, but not in sufficient quantities 
to pay for the labour. Dud Dudley, a natural son of 
Earl Dudley, was the first to introduce lime in the 
fusion of iron ore, and obtained a patent for the pro- 
cess of smelting by pit coal. His method, however, 
met with immense opposition from the old manufac- 
turers, who denounced his pit coal iron as worthless. 
The blast was very inefficient, so that not only was the 
iron of an inferior quality to that made from charcoal, 
but the quantity produced was very small, about five 
tons per week being the average yield of a Dudley fur- 
nace.* Towards the close of last century British iron, 

* Iron made by charcoal absorbs the largest proportion of 
carbon, and is the lenst ductile. Charcoal i- almost invariably 
used for smeltiii" purposes in Sweden, and there is no Letter 
iron in the world. It is worthy of note that savaue tahes, 
whose knowledge of and convenience for smelting are neces- 
sarily limited, have for centuries produced a quality of iron far 
superior to that of our best manufacture ; indeed, it is almost 
equal to steel. They use charcoal and smelt small quantities 
very slowly. 



136 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

both wrought and cast, was so inferior as to be generally 
excluded from Government supplies ; the practice of 
smelting with pit coal and refining with coke had then 
become general, but the blast was defective. The in- 
troduction of what is termed " hot blasts" has worked 
quite a revolution in the iron trade.* 

But let us come nearer to the old ironworks at Mas- 
brough. The Messrs. Walker soon became A 1 in the 
production of cast-metal articles, from iron pots, stove 
and fire-grates, kitchen ovens, &c, to the largest 
cannon and metal bridges. Twenty years before this 
time the English people knew not how to make cast- 
metal articles properly. The practice then was to 
make the moulds in fire-clay, which were afterwards 
baked ; but, in general, soon as the molten liquid was 
poured into these moulds they cracked, or burst into a 
hundred fragments. Most of our cast-iron articles, 
therefore, were imported. A quaker named Darby went 
into Holland to see how the Dutch made cast-metal 
goods, and found that the latter were cast in dry sand — 
a simple method, appreciated when known ; but the 

* The principle of " hot-blasts " was first applied by a gas- 
manager : he had noticed that a current of hot-air both puri- 
fied the flame, and rendered the heat very intense. The iron- 
masters ridiculed such an idea. They had observed that iron 
smelted in winter was best (little dreaming: that in summer- 
time the atmosphere contains most moisture), and came to 
the conclusion that the blast, in summer wanted cooling 1 : so 
they passed it through cold water boxes and even through ice. 
For twenty -five years there has been much contention about 
the relative superiority of iron produced by hot and cold 
blasts, and, certainly, during the last quarter of a century 
the market value of hot-blast iron ranged from 18s. to 20s. 
per ton below that of the other. There must have been some 
very good reasons for this difference in price. Hot-blast iron 
was, for years, excluded from the more important foundry 
work, partly because it did not bring so great a weight from 
the cupulo by at least one cwt. per ton, but chiefly hecau-e 
the foundry masters discovered that it contracted very much 
by irregular cooling, and therefore that the strength of such 
castings could not be guarranted. We must bear in mind, 
however, that about half as much more iron can be smelted 
by hot-blast in the same period of time ; beside which anthro- 
cite coal (which is most difficult to burn) may thus be used 
to advantage. At present there is scarcely any cold-blast iron 
in the market to be put in competition, but the question 
may fairly arise whether our manufacturers in their anxiety 
to produce the greatest quantity of iron, in all its stages, may 
not be going very far to deteriorate the | quality. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 137 

knowledge worked another revolution in the iron-trade. 
This shrewd quaker gained his purpose, and, returning 
home with a number of Dutch workmen, soon produced 
metal pots of the right sort at a much cheaper rate 
than they could be imported. Friend Darby continued 
to work in secret, with closed doors, and afterwards ob- 
tained a patent for making " big bellied pots " without 
the aid of either clay or loam. But the secret, which 
was no invention of Darby's, soon oozed out, and as 
casting in sand was found to be almost illimitable in its 
application, I suppose the quaker either limited his 
claim, or found it impossible to resist the progress of 
innovation. 

From 1750 to the close of last century, perhaps 
no other firm in the kingdom cast a greater amount and 
variety of articles than the Messrs. Walker. The weight 
of . cannon cast at Masbrough during the reign of 
George III., when we expended so much treasure in 
the "sinews of war," was enormous, and as these 
cannon were bored on the premises, the mechanical ap- 
pliances must have been on a very extensive scale. It 
is commonly believed that the Messrs. Walker cast the 
first iron bridge. Tom Paine, the infidel, claimed the 
merit of this invention, and says he conceived the idea 
from watching the progress of a spider's-web. Whether 
this be true or not, it is certain that he resided for some 
months at Rotherham, intent upon carrying out his 
designs, models of which had been exhibited before 
several learned societies. A bridge, formed principally 
of iron, was made by the Messrs. Walker, from Paine's 
instructions, and forwarded to London ; but whether it 
was that the plan was defective, or that sufficient in- 
terest was not manifested in the scheme, certainly the 
bridge was returned to Yorkshire, and afterwards broken 
up. Local report (which, however, does not always 
speak truth) says, that the money was not forthcoming, 
and for this reason the bridge was not technically de- 
livered, the Messrs. Walker concluding that they had 
better have the broken material than nothing. This 
was in 1787.* In 1790, however, the firm did build a 

* We must not forget the fact that, six years before this 
date, a bridge with cast-iron arches was erected by Darly, at 
Coalbrookedale, over the Severn, and which remains a success 
td the present day. 



138 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

bridge, and put it up. It cost £26,000, and the span 
of the arch was 236 feet wide. I allude to the famous 
bridge at Sunderland. 

But, the reader is impatient to visit the Old lion 
Works at Masbrough — to stand and look upon the very 
spot. Right ; we will go there at ouce. 



The Manufacture of Steel. 

The Holmes is not a very romantic place whichever 
way it is approached. Suppose one takes the Rother- 
ham and Sheffield train ; he passes several large fac- 
tories, where many useful find some ornamental iron 
goods are being made and fitted. In the distance glare 
a number of forges out of thick columns of smoke, and 
the traveller wonders how that plot oi grass can look so 
green, albeit it is nourished in the succulent warp by 
the side of the river. Almost before he has time to 
note down this great natural problem, however, the train 
stops at the Holmes. 

But you and I, reader, come further north ; and, get- 
ting out at Masbrough, walk to »he place. We pass 
rows of cottages. Every cottage has one wife, and every 
wife has a bevy of bairns ; these afford visible evidence 
of a nation's progression. But never mind the destiny 
of future geueiations; we want to see those old iron 
works where the Walkers did such gr°at things in their 
day. Alas ! alas ! this world is full of change ! Not 
even a prosperous "established" firm can exist during 
three transcient lives. On inquiry we find that those 
famous iron works have evaporated into a dim local tra- 
dition, and the very sites are re-constructed to make 
and roll steel. 

Well, being here, it is desirable to see the works. 
The first we approach is a new and low but some- 
what extensive square of buildings, which has a res- 
pectable we'1-to-do look. This, we are informed, is the 
firm of Peter Stubbs, whose shear and cast-steel have 
long been celebrated for their excellence. But how can 
we gain admittance ? We look over the arched door-way, 
and under the dome, expecting to find that ill-natured 
deterrent — " No admittance except on business." 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 139 

There is nowhere such a superscription. This is an 
excellent omen, say you— there is nothing going on here 
that the firm need be ashamed of. But an awkward 
question arises simultaneously in our breasts, viz. — 
What excuse shall we give to the gentleman in com- 
maud for thus obtruding upon his attention ? We can- 
not give him any cash orders, or money return for 
the time which he or his servants are asked to forfeit. 
What plea can we offer for admittance ? A plain un- 
varnished statement generally carries most weight ; we 
will lay the whole ease before the principal — Two emi- 
nent philosophers and literati, intent upon solving all 
the mysteries of science and art, request permission to 
view your works. 

Mr. Tiecwick, the managing partner, hears our state- 
ment, and answers not a word. But he rings a bell, 
when immediately a messenger appears : — 

"Shew this gentleman (you, reader, have only an 
ideal presence) through every part of the works, begin- 
ning with the iron-room ." 

Nothing more was said ; and it did not appear neces- 
sary to say anything more ; except three words, which I 
believe were spoken by myself. They ran thus— " Thank, 
you, sir." 

We follow our guide across a spacious court-yard, 
clean and well paved, to the iron warehouse. Here are 
great piles of bar-iron, bearing the maker's trade marks, 
which latter to me were perfect hieroglyphics. 
"Where is this iron from ?" said I. 
"From Sweden; on every bar you see the maker's 
peculiar mark." 

"And do you use no British iron for making 
steel ?" 

" Not a scrap; Peter Stubb's steel is known to be 
good." 

" But it will be costly ?" 

" Peter Stubb's name is a sufficient guarantee. Some 
of the Sheffield men will sell steel for less money than 
we give for the iron. But then," continued our guide, 
turning up his nasal organ, " What is it V 

" No doubt it is poor stuff," said I. " And who can 
calculate the amount of misery and sin which bad steel 
produces in the world ? Look here, friend — How much 



140 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

physical pain and mental irritation (the latter finding 
vent often in involuntary curses) does a bad razor, a 
pair of scissors, or a knife occasion. How often those 
poor natives of the South Sea Islands, or Seringapatam 
are vilely cheated by having palmed upon them axes and 
knives made of "this intolerable steel. Can such people 
ever cherish kindly feelings towards England ? Never ! 
Their affections are steeled. 

" But have you no people at work here ?" I enquired ; 
for up to this moment we had not met a soul, and the 
place had an air of aristocratic repose, which one does 
not expect to find in a neighbourhood like this. " Look- 
ing at these works from the outside, I should have sup- 
posed that two or three hundred hands, at least, were 
employed on the premises." 

"We do not employ thirty men," replied our guide. 
The expense of making steel consists more in the pre- 
paration, and the stuff, than in labour." 

The next place we visit is an empty " converting 
furnace," which has been undergoing repairs : here, 
too, there is nobody at work ; but we have a good op- 
portunity of examining the place. The interior of this 
converting furnace is like a huge baker's oven ; but it 
contains two troughs, or pots, built of a kind of fire- 
stone, which are about fifteen feet long, and four feet in 
depth and width. As near as one could judge they oc- 
cupy about half the extent of floor in the furnace. 
These troughs will each hold about nine tons of those 
iron bars which we have just seen. The bars, however, 
are disposed between alternate layers of charcoal, and 
when the troughs are full the tops are carefully 
plastered up with sand or loam. The furnace is then 
nearly filled with coke, and fired ; the intense heat 
being continued from four to seven days, according to 
the purpose for which the steel is designed. But al- 
though the flame encompasses these troughs, not a 
particle of the charcoal contained therein is ignited. 
This roasting, however, causes the iron bars to absorb an 
immense amount of carbon, so that when the furnace is 
cooled, and those bars are removed, the latter present a 
charred appearance, and are covered with blisters ; 
hence the name of " blistered steel." There are plenty 
of these bars lying about, and, judging from appearance 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE, 141 

only, one might suppose that they are iron burnt and 
spoiled. I mentioned to our guide that such charred 
stuff did not harmonize with my ideas of steel, which 
ought to present a fine and silvery grain. The only 
reply he made was — " Follow me." 

So we went forward into a large shed, where are a 
number of tilt hammers, one of which has a helve or 
shaft of wrought iron weighing fourteen tons. And yet 
they work as easily, and more quickly than the ship 
carpenter strikes the head of his spike-nail. Those bars 
of " blistered-steel" are broken up into pieces of about 
two feet long. These are heated separately, and ham- 
mered out into larger bars, the process of heating and 
hammering being continued two or three times. The 
quality of steel depends, in a great measure, upon the 
amount of hammering it receives ; hence the designa- 
tions of single and double sheer-steel. I noticed also 
that five of these heated bars were taken from the fur- 
nace at a red- heat and welded together under the ham- 
n Br. The man who turns and directs these bars is 
suspended in a kind of chair by a rope from above (his 
feet never touching the ground), and he sways back- 
wards and forwards with the exact momentum required 
to place each portion of the bar consecutively in con- 
tact with the repeated strokes of the hammer. 

Thus sheer-steel is manufactured ; and each bar, 
which appeared to be about five feet long, is stamped 
with the designation of ''double-sheer," when it is such, 
and, in attestation, with the well known name of 
Peter Stubbs. 

The manufacture of steel is not a recent invention. 
Most of the early eastern nations appear to have known 
and appreciated its use ; for how could those ancient 
Hindoo works of art and Egyptian inscriptions have 
been produced without steel tools. The Walkers appear 
to have been amongst the first in Yorkshire who con- 
verted iron into steel ; but at what exact period, and to 
what extent they adopted this branch of manufacture, I 
have not been able to learn. 

Supposing those bars of iron in the converting furnace 
were reduced to a molten condition, would they"'not 
become steel ? No, the mass would only become a 
superior kind of cast iron ; and this is a singular fact 



142 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

when we consider the method by which cast-steel is 
manufactured. 

Benjamin Huntsman was a maker of clocks and an 
ingenious whitesmith at Doncaster : he also obtained 
renown for mending locks, roasting-jacks, &c. ; in fact, 
this clever mechanician was a type of those noble 
pioneers who developed new resources in the iron trade. 
Benjamin Huntsman, of Doncaster, found great diffi- 
culty in getting steel of a good quality, suitable for his 
tools, and the springs of clocks. After repeated efforts 
he succeeded in making two or three pendulums of cast- 
steel, which are probably now oscillating in some abscure 
corner of Doncaster or the neighbourhood. In 1740 he 
removed to Hardswortb, near Sheffield, expecting to 
meet with greater facilities there in carrying out his 
experiments. No doubt Benjamin was somewhat of a 
chemist. He saw how iron could be carbonized with 
charcoal, by intense beat. But this result could not be 
attained if it were subject to the direct action of flame, 
or when evaporation is permitted to take place. The 
whole secret of making cast out of blistered steel, there- 
fore, would consist in transforming the grosser material 
particles of carbon to a purer and more elastic state : 
the metal would thus acquire cohesion and flexibility, 
and, as a consequence, it would present a very fine 
grain. Huntsman's difficulties were these : — How to 
construct a furnace which should engender a heat far 
more intense than any yet known ; what volatile sub- 
stance to introduce successfully as a flux ; and, more 
imnortant than all besides, how to make a crucible 
which would stand the fire, and securely retain the 
molten liquid. After months of patient industry, and 
many failures, this courageous man did succeed in pro- 
ducing a first-class article of cast-steel. 

But where is our guide ? I see ; — he has gone under 
one of the sheds, where a man is busily engaged grind- 
ing charcoal ; the latter being about as disagreeable and 
unhealthy a job as it is possible to imagine. This man 
has a hood of canvass over hi face, and from " top to 
toe" is covered with black charcoal dust. We do not 
stay long there. 

" But you make cast-steel .*" I said. 

"We do; wait a bit and you shall seethe whole 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 143 

process. 'Now George,' said our guide, turning to the 
grinder, 'that las u charcoal was not half washed — you 
must wash it better, George.' Thpn he volunteered to 
us a little trade information. • We make the charcoal 
taken from the converting pots do dut> again, after 
being washed and riddled, mixing half old and half new 
together.' 

"This way, please." Our guide thereupon opens a 
door, and wo are introduced to a solitary workman, 
smeared all over wi<.h clay. Our attention is directed 
to a heap of this blue-white fire-clay, which is of a 
pasty consistence. The mud-lark told us that he came 
at six o'clock, and for four hours was kneading that 
clay with his bare feet. Close by was a heap of the 
original earth, which had a raw, granular appearance ; 
while this kneaded mass looked very much like putty, 
it was so fine and cohesive. The workman takes a 
quantity of this soft clay, and plasters the inside of a 
metal mould, which resembles a two gallon jar. A 
wooden core is then worked in the inside, moulding the 
pot into the required form and thickness. But how to 
get the clay jar out of the metal mould was a problem 
to me. *The workman made no difficulty of the matter ; 
he lifted the whole mass on to a low trestle (the wooden 
core still filling up the cavity of the pot), when the 
metal mould was sloughed gently upwards, leaving the 
soft pot perfect in its symmetry. We notice a long 
range of these fire-clay articles drying on a shelf, pre- 
vious to their being baked in a furnace. Our guide 
told us that this man is regularly employed modelling 
crucibles, as the pots only last for three heats ; that is 
for a single day. 

We then proceed to the melting furnace, which is 
divided into ten compirtments, all burning together ; 
and there is a deep arched cellar underneath to accel- 
lerate the draught. Exch of these compartments holds 
two pots or crucibles, and earh crucible contains about 
32lbs. of blistered steel. The process of melting occu- 
pies about three and a-half hours. It luckily happens 
that we have only to wait a few minutes, when the 
operation of teeming the molten liquid will begin. I 
observed a number of little funnels standing upright 
in the floor : these are simply moulds into which the 



144 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

melted steel will be poured. And now two of the four 
workmen dipped large strips of thick hempen sackcloth 
in water, and proceeded to wrap them round their legs 
and waist : if they did not do this all their clothes 
would be burnt. Each one then takes a long pair of 
tongs, having a kind of fire-screen or shield attached, 
and, commencing at the extremities of the furnace 
(the latter containing ten separate doors), proceeds to 
lift out one of the pots, and places it upon the floor. 
We stand aside, at a respectful distance, fearful that 
the crucible should burst ; for if it does burst, then woe 
betide our skins ! The fiery thing glows fiercely on 
the floor, but neither hissed nor belched ; it stifled all 
its rage in its own bosom. A man with long pincers 
takes off the lid, opening its burning mouth — but here 
our simile must end. 

This crucible is lifted from the ground, and the liquid 
steel poured into a mould ; but, so far as our experi- 
ence extends, we have never seen anything under the 
sun half so bright and dazzling as that glowing stream 
of molten steel. How this man could bear the burning 
heat and splendour near his face is a mystery of endur- 
ance. 

In process of time all the crucibles are emptied ; but 
it was a laborious and very hot job. We are hereby 
impressed with one notable fact, which stands out 
in opposition to the ordinary results of natural laws ; 
the two steel melters are fat — enormously fat — one of 
them being at least seventeen and the other fifteen 
stones in weight. "We should have thought that ex- 
posure to such intense heat for several hours in a day 
would be enough to shrivel the flesh, and dry up even 
the marrow in the bones. Iu this case, however, the 
result is quite different ; indeed one may often notice 
that puddlers and smiths whose occupation exposes them 
to continuous and oppressive heat are often men of 
physical weight. It may be that only those of great 
bodily frame and much strength are fit for such like em- 
ployment ; still, with good health and nourishing food, 
it is surprising how much exhaustive labour the human 
frame will bear. 

The moulds are lifted from their upright position in 
the floor, and, being formed of segments, they separate, 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 145 

each exposing an ingot of steel, which cast-steel is after- 
wards hammered or rolled, according to the various pur- 
poses for which it is designed. Speaking of rolling, 
brings to our notice the Steel Rolling Mill conducted by 
Messrs. Habershon, which is immediately adjoining 
to Peter Stubb's factory, and occupies the principal site 
of what once were Walker's Iron Works. Here we may 
observe portions of the very walls, and the "races" 
where the original water-wheels once revolved (now re- 
placed by others of a similar construction), together 
with many antiquated remains ; indeed, the whole 
place looks like a venerable relict of the past. A young 
man from the office, whose relation to the firm I did 
not enquire, accompanied me through the works ; and I 
stood for some minutes admiring the wonderful dex- 
terity with which irregular bars of steel are heated and 
rolled into long symmetrical wires and thin hoops, the 
latter being intended, principally, to expand the skirts 
of ladies' dresses. 



146 STORIES AND SKETCHES 



Iron Branches in and around Kotherham, 



Part I. — The Heavy Trade. 

Masbrough, and Kimberworth,* and] Rotherham 
(which form in reality but one town) subsist by the 
iron trade. Adjoining the railway station at Masb- 
rough we have the Midland Works, where iron is pud- 
dled and rolled into almost every description of bars 
and rods. In the station yard, along the sidings and 
upon the trucks, are great numbers of railway wheels, 
each pair fitted to the axle complete ; these are waiting 
to be despatched to various locomotive and waggon ma- 
nufactories in the kingdom. In the street beyond, carts 
and lurries are bringing more cf these rail way- wheels 
and tires, so that a stranger might conclude, on very 
good evidence, that one of the principal trades in Rother- 
ham is the manufacture of railway-wheels and tires. 

Rotherham and rail way- wheels — let us twaddle a little 
upon the conjunction. Fifty years ago, it was com- 
monly believed that railways would ruin the country, 
and their promoters were harassed at every step. 
Great landowners could discern nothing but disadvantage 
in the severance of their estates by iron roads, while the 
general public predicted nothing but ruin in the dis- 
turbance of organized institutions. Post-houses, with 
their vested interest in stage-coaches, stage -waggons, 
post-boys, and stable-boys, would all "go to the bad." 
Harness-makers and shoeing-smiths would find ' ' their 
occupation gone." Farmers would have no occasion to 
grow oats, because there would be few horses to eat 
them ; consequently a great portion of the land would 
have to lie waste. Now, when we find that for every 

* In the reign of Henry II., Richard de Builil, granted to 
the Monastery at Kimberworth, four forges for smelting and 
working iron. So far as we have been able to discover this is the 
earliest record of any established Iron-works in South York- 
shire ; and, when we consider the difficulty of transit, at this 
period, we may naturally conclude that such a supply of metal 
would afford employment to many artificers or smiths, ia this 
immediate neighbourhood, 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 147 

man and horse thus diverted, at least twenty have found 
employment in consequence of railways, we can afford 
to smile at the short-sightedness of our fore-elders. 

A few tramways for the carrying of coal were in ex- 
istence so early as the middle of last century ; and 
about thirty years afterwards cast-metal rails nailed on 
to wooden sleepers might be found in two or three col- 
liery districts : then arose, in full dispute, a question 
how best to furnish motive power along these primitive 
tramways. Sails fitted to the waggons, so that the 
latter might be partially propelled by wind, were intro- 
duced ; but the wind is a very fickle and uncertain 
agent. At the commencement of this century two or 
three sanguine, practical men were certain that steam- 
engines might be constructed to drag great weights on 
these metal roads. Trevithick made the first locomotive 
engine worthy of the name, but it was a cumbrous 
array of wheels, cogs, and spurs, regulated by a large fly- 
wheel. At this time, and ror many years afterwards, 
it was thought impossible that wheels could move on 
smooth rails simply by their own traction. The argu- 
ment was considered unanswerable that any weight 
placed behind an engine must inevitably bring it to a 
bearing, since the wheels would turn round without 
being able to advance. Everybody said that smooth 
wheels could not "bite" and advance on smooth rails — 
the thing was impossible ; consequently either the 
wheels or the rails, or both, were made with cross- 
grooves, notches, and even bolts. Blenkinsop in his 
tramway ftcom Middleton to Leeds, opened about 
1812, has one entire length of rails notched, like a saw, 
into which the toothed driving-wheel of the engine worked. 
By this method an engine was able to drag thirty coal 
waggons three miles an hour. In 1826, while the Man- 
chester aud Liverpool railway was being constructed, 
steam locomotion was exceedingly defective, the rate of 
speed on the Stockton and Darlington line being about 
five miles an hour. I could not help smiling, a few days 
ago, on reading a paper in the Gentleman's Magazine, 
in which the writer contrasts the relative superiority of 
steam over horse locomotion. The writer puts forward 
the very sanguine prediction that a steam engine will, 
some day, be constructed to drag twenty tons weight at 

J 3 



148 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

the rate of ten miles an hour. Neither the Government 
nor the country had any faith in steam locomotives. 
When, in 1829, a bill for the Newcastle and Carlisle 
railway passed through Parliament, the Act was granted 
only on condition that horses, and not engines, should 
be employed in propelling the trains. After steam en- 
gines had superseded horse carriages on the Stockton 
and Darlington line, it was agreed to test the relative 
speed of steam locomotives and stage coaches by a fair 
race. The engine train arrived in Stockton about 300 
yards ahead of its competitor ; and this was considered 
at that time an extraordinary feat. The Manchester 
and Liverpool directors, previous to the completion of 
their line, offered a reward of £500 for the best loco- 
motive engine, one of the conditions being that it must 
draw a train containing twenty tons of freight at the 
rate of ten miles an hour. Competition brought out the 
famous "Rocket" engine, with multitubular boiler, 
manufactured by Robert Stephenson, and Co. 

What railways have become since that date we know. 
But what will they become in the future ? Will they 
last to the end of time ? This may not be, for there 
is nothing so certain as that everything will change. 
Truth, honour, and goodness are eternal ! Yes. But 
we are speaking now of mechanical and material forces : 
the particular application of these do not long retain 
their ascendancy. The best commercial enterprises 
have but a few years of prosperity, then they decay. 
Sometimes, on a wet day, or when the spirits are 
damped by a November fog, we are prone to discover 
symptoms of national decadence. Even in these sunny 
days of June, some sigh over the loss of our political 
power and prestige in the scale of nations. But, 
strange anomaly, these grumblers maintain that our 
national honour was greatest when, financially speaking, 
we were most impoverished, i. e., during the beginning 
of this century, when, after the sequel of Waterloo, 
crowning a series of devastating wars, we were enabled 
to dictate terms to Europe. Let us hope, for the sake 
of our national morality, that this logic is false ; that, 
for the sake of peace, we have not stooped to an ignoble 
cowardice and vacillation. 

Some people even now contend that over production 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 149 

will inevitably prove our ruin, for, say they, are we not 
lavishing with a prodigal hand the natural resources of 
our little island ? But the prodigal laughs at this sort 
of teaching. Pooh ! says he ; the mechanical genius of 
England is only half developed. While we retain our 
courage and industry and hope our countrymen will 
prove sufficient for every emergency. Long before the 
last acre of our coal-fields is exhausted we shall find 
that there are imponderable forces in nature capable of 
producing still mightier results. We have formed a 
language out of electricity, and, if the thing be needed, 
we shall bring the lightning from autumnal clouds and 
dribble it out all the year round as a mechanical power. 
And the Great Disposer of Events is not in this man's 
thoughts. Nature and self-idolatry fill all his soul. 

But there is another type of man still living in this 
beautiful valley of the Don ; and it chafes him to hear 
such talk. Let us not disown or disguise one important 
fact — secretly and silently there exists an antagonism 
between our old landed gentry and the new potentates 
of trade. Truly the aggressive spirit of the latter has, 
during the last forty years made rapid strides, poison- 
ing the atmosphere of our most sylvan retreats, while 
discordant noises, night and day, startle the denizens of 
old cherished solitudes. Should this innovation pro- 
ceed in the same increasing ratio for another century, 
South Yorkshire will be a conglomeration of workshops, 
with branch railways almost as general as footpaths are 
now. The probabilities are therefore that rail-mills 
and railway wheel manufactories will extend them- 
selves, and make Sheffield part of the suburbs of 
Roth er ham. 

On arriving at the bridge which divides Masbrough 
from Rotherham, hundreds of men and boys were hur- 
rying down Bridgegate in a kind of jog-trot, amidst 
much laughter and shouting. 

" What is up V said I to a man whose face developed 
a true Yorkshire grin. 

" You'll see," said he, " only wait a bit." 

The spectacle was novel — one man wheeling another 
man in a barrow ; and a number of boys were accele- 
rating the vehicle's motion by means of a rope. The 
principal object of remark was himself bound hands and 



150 STORIES AND~SKETCHES 

feet. Was he ill ? No ; for in that case there would be 
no cause for merriment. Was he drunk ? No ; the 
man sat up in perfect consciousness, with a lugubrious 
expression, partly of shame, and partly of chagrin. 
For thirty years, or more, it has been a custom at the 
Phoenix Works, when any workman or apprentice ab- 
sents himself without leave, thereby causing the ma- 
chinery, and other men to remain idle, that he shall be 
fetched to his work in a wheelbarrow. The custom 
may have a salutary effect, since few men, or even boys, 
will be insensible to the degradation. I had noticed 
the name of Owen and Co., Phoenix Works, on the 
bosses of those railway wheels at the Midland station, 
and having once met somebody who knew somebody who 
was an overlooker at the place, I ventured to make the 
name a plea for admission. 

The Phoenix Works have no very imposing appearance, 
so far as it relates to the building ; but there is an air 
of business about the place which would convey an im- 
pression that everything is made subservient to the 
principle of making money. The yard is choke-full of 
railway wheels — immense rows of single wheels, in 
various stages of manufacture, and great squares of 
double wheels fitted to the axle, and ready for consign- 
ment. One of the first objects of machinery whick 
engages the attention on first entering the yard, is a 
spoke-bending machine, which acts almost like a 
sentient, intelligent thing. Two solid triangular pieces 
of metal advance, on the principle of a slide-lathe, and, 
seizing hold of a straight red-hot bar of iron, fresh from 
the furnace, bend it across a central anvil into a trian- 
gular wheel-spoke. After the requisite nip, the flat- 
iron hands return, liberate the perfect spoke, and, 
advancing, grasp another piece of red-hot iron, which 
is ready waiting to be bent. Usually four of these 
triangular spokes are taken and cast into a metal boss, 
thus forming a perfect wheel, minus the rim. I was 
most anxious, however, to see a railway wheel forged 
in a die, all at a stroke ; for which patent process this 
firm is chiefly distinguished. The preliminary process 
consists in taking four of those bent spokes, with four 
or five small rings piled together for the boss, and four 
or five large rings piled together for the rim ; the whole 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 151 

being tied round and kept in their place by iron wire. 
The fagotted wheel is then taken by an enormous pair 
of pincers and placed in the furnace. In about half an 
hour, when the whole has attained a welding heat, these 
pincers lift the mass into a metal die, which, as a mould 
bears the impression of a perfect wheel in sunken char- 
acters. This die, being directly under a ponderous 
steam-hammer, receives a succession, of strokes, the 
stratified pieces of red-hot iron being thus forged, or 
solidified ; and when sufficiently cool to be lifted from 
the die there is a solid wrought-iron railway wheel, 
complete, except the tire or outer rim. How is the 
tire made ? Nothing in the iron trade has interested 
me half so much as the principle of making what is 
called the " weldless tire" ;" but it is exceedingly 
doubtful whether I may be able to explain the process 
in a few words, and without diagrams, so as to be 
clearly understood by the reader ; especially as my 
entire experience of the subject is confined to a single 
observation, extending over quarter of an hour. To 
begin — a number of straight bars of wrought-iron are 
bent by a very simple process into circular rings, about 
twenty inches in diameter. Four or five of these are 
then piled together, and put into a "balling furnace." 
When sufficiently heated the cluster of rings is put into 
a circular metal dish, under another steam-hammer. 
The foot of this hammer is a circle, of narrower dimen- 
sions, containing a kind of flange or groove, so that in 
descending it fills up the centre of the metal mould, 
and forges the red-hot mass into one solid ring of the 
required thickness. Two or three strokes of the im- 
mense hammer accomplishes all this in a few seconds 
of time ; and such is the power of concussion that the 
floor for many yards round shook as if by an earthquake. 
Thus is forged a solid ring of iron, weighing about 4 
cwt. ; but, at this stage, presenting no resemblance to 
a perfect railway-rim, excepting that it is circular. 
The next process is curious and admirable. This ring, 
after being heated in a furnace, is put upon a circular 
revolving shaft, which causes the red-hot ring to spin 
round at a moderate rapidity. In revolving, simply 
from its own gravity and momentum, it becomes en- 
larged in diameter, and would, doubtless, acquire an 



152 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

enormous size were it not for two revolving wheels placed 
at a gradually widening distance on each side. These 
wheels exercise a double effect, first of determining the 
diameter of the rim, and secondly by the force of re- 
sistance, cutting away that portion of the ring on which 
they act, so as to leave a flange on the outer edge ; in 
fact, by this process the tires are shaped as if they had 
been turned in a lathe. The perfect tire is afterwards 
heated again and put upon the ground ; when one of 
those die-formed wheels is placed within it. This was 
done very easily ; indeed, I could have got my fingers 
between the rim of the wheel and the red hot tire ; but 
the latter gradually contracted in cooling and grasped 
the .wheel as in a vice. The next process was the dril- 
ling machines, which were regulated by a number of 
boys, not 1, more than twelve or fourteen years of age, 
who manifested an expertness and precociousness equal 
to manhood. The wheels were placed in a horizontal 
position upon the floor, and had holes drilled through 
the rim of the wheel in four places corresponding to the 
bent spikes. Red-hot bolts were afterwards inserted 
into each hole, which are fastened in a few seconds by an 
admirable invention called a "punching machine ;" and 
thus the wheels are ready for being fitted to the axle. 

A little further on, close to the river bank, stand the 
Northfield or Swedish Iron Works, so called because 
formerly a great deal of Swedish iron was introduced 
into the manufacture. The other name, too, is quite 
expressive, because we have even now to pass through 
a great field before this pile of buildings is approached. 
The reader may, probably, have seen newspaper notices 
that a patent anchor was being manufactured here for 
our national war-ships. Anchors — these are important 
things ; and we should like very much to see how they 
are made. Who invented anchors ? Nay, that is a 
puzzling question, for they are of very ancient origin. 
At first, we may surmise, they would be simply weights 
let down to the bottom of the river or sea, to bring the 
ship to a bearing ; but what man conceived the happy 
notion of a metal hook is past conjecture, and will 
never be known. No one can tell us to a century when 
even the double-armed anchor first came into use ; the 
origin is so remote. Pliny says that the Tuscans manu- 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 153 

factured the first anchor which deserved the name, and 
certainly it is one of those necessary inventions which, 
once conceived, would be implicitly adopted, a hook 
being the most perfect form aa anchor can assume. 
True there have been slight modifications in the shape, 
and numerous improvements in the manufacture, but 
the principle of curved arms has been invariably re- 
tained ; nothing is so well adapted to stick into the 
ground. Great care is required in selecting the ma- 
terials and in welding the various parts. The iron 
must not be too brittle, or the strain on the anchor may 
cause it to snap ; neither must it be too soft, or the 
strain might straighten the arm, so that the latter 
would lose its hold in the ground. Good anchors are, 
therefore, very desirable ; and, no doubt, perfection 
consists in combining lightness with strength. Patents 
haVe been obtained for anchors with a hollow shank, 
the centre being filled up with a wooden core, through 
which the cable is carried. For one of this character 
a patent was obtained by Captain Rogers in 1828 ; but 
none of these segmentary anchors ever became general. 

Two or three years ago the Northfield Iron Company, 
Limited, entered into an arrangement with this same 
Capt. Rogers to carry out his patent of a new solid an- 
chor, and after spending something like £30,000 on ad- 
ditional plant and machinery, commenced the manufac- 
ture of anchors and pickaxe kedges on a large scale. 
For a while the hopes of the patentee and shareholders 
were buoyant, since the invention promised to be a great 
success ; orders came in from the Admiralty and mer- 
chant service ; the anchors were tested, and, although 
lighter and more compact than those in common use, 
were found to deflect less than the best anchors of any 
other manufacture ; they defied competition. But a 
few weeks ago some blighting influences settled upon 
these ironworks of Northfield ; Captain Rogers died, the 
managers found themselves unable to work advantage- 
ously, and the whole affair is now being wound up in 
Chancery. 

I asked a lime burner, who was busy at Iris kiln ; 
which was the entrance into the Northfield Ironworks. 
"That is the road into Sweden," said he, pointing with 
his finger to a certain portion of the buildings. Fol- 



154 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

lowing this direction, I was soon in " Sweden." But 
the great steam-hammers stood in grim silence, the 
huge rollers did not revolve, and there was no life in 
the furnaces. Two or three workmen loitered about 
here and there like melancholy watchers in a city of the 
dead. A clerk belonging to the establisl ment went 
with me round the works ; but it was impossible to 
drill into a novice like myself any correct knowledge or 
interest in the manufacture without seeing the ma- 
chinery at work. I knew beforehand, from report, that 
the common method of fashioning anchors was by what 
is called " piling and 'fagotting," i.e., on a bar of iron 
the required length shorter bars and " scrap," are placed 
so thatthe several pieces shall overlap each other, and are 
bound together by wire hoops ; afterwards, when the mass 
has acquired a welding heat in the ''balling furnace," it 
is forged under a heavy steam-hammer. About twenty 
anchors are scattered about the works, some weighing 
from sixty to eighty cwi., others not more than a quarter 
of a ton . The distinctive feature of each, so far as I 
could see, consists in the short, powerful arms, ter- 
minating in a broad palm, which latter, from having 
been hammered in a die, has all the appearance of cast 
metal. The shank is long in proportion to the arms. 
The stock is not of wood, but a solid mass of wrought 
iron, the centre being formed in a die and afterwards 
lengthened by welding. It would be an interesting 
sight to notice the process of forging in dies under the 
heavy hammers ; but the costly machinery was all in- 
active. Said I, to myself — a little company, with a 
little of the "ready," will perhaps buy this place up, 
at about one-tenth of its cost, and afterwards make a 
fortune. Thus it is, in this philanthropic age, that one 
man rises on the ruin of another. 

Afterwards I called at the Rotherham Forge, con- 
ducted by Messrs. J. and Gr. Brown, which, although not 
the largest, has the reputation of being one of the 
soundest firms in this neighbourhood. Here is a rolling- 
mill for bar-iron, and another for steel, and a ponderous 
steam-hammer to forge "weldless tyres." Unfortu- 
nately it was the dinner hour, so that all the machinery 
was silent. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 155 



Part II.— Stove-grate and Ornamental Work. 

Eotherham is famed for making stove-grates, umbrella 
and hat-stands, iron mantel-pieces, toilet tables, bal- 
conies, and many articles very ornamental, both for the 
inside of gentlemen's houses, and their gardens or lawns. 
Iron is tough stuff, and better than wood for many 
stationary purposes : moreover it does not decay so fast 
with the weather, and is capable of vast artistic de- 
signs. 

As a nation increases in wealth it has regard to per- 
sonal comfort. Perhaps some one will say — Yes, and 
in the same degree it sinks into effeminacy. What do 
you mean by effeminacy ? Savages an df semi-barbarians 
can almost live without fires. But the question still 
arises — Is it best to do so ? Barbarians may have great 
bodily strength, and the physical power to endure 
great hardship. They may puncture and hack each 
others flesh without experiencing a sensation to faint, 
and not "catch their death of cold" when they lie 
out of doors on a pillow of snow. But what of that ? 
Does that prove that a mere animal existence is better 
than the progress of civilization ? Suppose for a 
moment that England had never cultivated domestic 
fires, there would have been no " fire -side talk," no 
pictures of social life like those which the effeminate 
Cowper reproduces — 

" Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, 
Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round, 
And, while the bubbling and loud hissing urn 
Throws up a steamy column, and the cups, 
That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each, 
So let us welcome peaceful evening in." 
Or, again— 
" Me oft has fancy ludicrous and wild 
Sooth'd with a waking dream of houses, towers, 
Trees, churches, and strange visages, express'd 
In the red cinders, while with poring eye 
I gaz'd, myself creating what I saw." 

We have no record of any chimnies being built pre- 
vious to the fourteenth century. Before this time, in 



156 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

our great halls, it was the custom to make a fire in 
the middle of the room — a wood-fire, not a coal-fire, for 
coals were considered too dirty, — and the smoke escaped 
by any aperture where it could. Fires for personal 
comfort did not become a recognized institution until 
about the reign of Henry VIII. Stove-grates, however, 
did not come into use until long after the introduction 
of chimnies, so that the fire still occupied its ancient 
place upon the floor or hearth. At that time the fuel 
was invariably wood or peat, which are best adapted for 
combustion upon a stone-hearth. Stove-grates and the 
use of coal are evidently contemporaneous, because coal- 
fires require some contrivance of this kind to assist the 
flame ; else it would soon die out. The first fire-grate 
would, no doubt, be a great curiosity to the present 
age, standing out in marked contrast with our polished 
patent registers. Like many other important inven- 
tions its early history is buried in obscurity ; we know 
from the direct line of succession that there must have 
been an original fire-grate, but can only conjecture as 
to its primitive form and capacity. But, a truce to 
speculation, let us see how stove-grates are manufactured 
at the present day. 

Effingham "Works may be considered the Industrial 
Palace of Rotherham ; but, built in a low and retired 
situation, they almost escape observation from the casual 
visitor. Effingham Works are hidden from view both 
by the road and rail. Still, on mere architectural 
grounds, they are worth travelling a few yards out of 
the great public thoroughfare!to behold. If an ancient 
local manufacturer — say one of King James' time — 
could wake up and stand right in front of this ornamen- 
tal pile, he would perhaps answer — "You lie, sirrah; 
these are not workshops for grimy men, but the man- 
sion of some great nobleman." So much has the exter- 
nal position of skilled labour advanced. 

Having received courteous permission from the firm 
(Messrs. Yates, Haywood, and Drabble), let us see how 
those five hundred artizans employ their time— what 
kind and variety of articles are manufactured here. As 
in the carpet, cotton-printing, and lace trades, in- 
genious men are employed as designers, while any draw- 
ing submitted to the firm will, if accepted, be paid for 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE, 157 

according to its merit. These designs are then trans- 
ferred to the model-makers, and carved in either wood 
or lead. Not unfrequently the drawing is taken by 
some artist workman, and first modelled in clay or wax, 
then cast in lead, which afterwards receives minute 
elaboration by the graver's tools, and serves to produce 
a more perfect and permanent model. I found that, in 
many instances, the employment of lead in model- 
making was much more economical than wood-carving. 
Supposing you want a narrow strip — say twenty feet 
long — of uniform tracery or raised work, to ornament a 
cornice or a balcony ; it will not be necessary to carve 
above two feet in lead, from which other lengths are 
cast (also in lead), until the required extent of model is 
obtained, when the separate lengths are united so accu- 
rately that a practised eye can scarcely detect the joints. 
Thus nine-tenths of the labour of carving is saved. 
"But," said I to a workman, "this practice must 
necessitate the storing of much dead capital in lead 
models." "Not so," said he; "we do not preserve 
the lead models, but as soon as a perfect casting is taken 
in iron, the latter becomes our permanent model and 
the lead is re-melted." 

Here we perceive how the iron trade can be artisti- 
cally developed, arid cease to wonder that in so many 
articles cast-metal should supercede carving in wood and 
stone. This is the argument : — A man may design and 
execute some rare piece of carving, which will adorn 
one particular spot, for centuries, it may be. But it is 
only an isolated "thing of beauty" after all ; whereas 
there are hundreds of men and women who would like 
to have beautiful objects of art to brighten their dwel- 
lings if they could afford them : but these objects are far 
too costly for their means. Supposing, however, we 
turn this inimitable piece of carving into a model ; the 
firm at Effingham Works would be able to reproduce it 
ad infinitum in metal, at a very moderate expense. 
You may have a drawing-room completely furnished 
with iron — chairs, tables, sofas, cabinets, cheffioniers, 
picture-frames, mantel-pieces — all of uniform antique, 
or modern-florid patterns. And very magnificent such 
a suite would appear, the enamelled or polished castings 
being ornamented with knobs of ormolu or festoons of 



158 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

burnished brass. If not as portable, such articles of 
furniture would be more durable than wood, and where 
the appliances of manufacture are complete, they might 
be produced at a very moderate cost. But where price 
is but a secondary consideration, the bed-room or draw- 
ing-room suite might be painted and enamelled, so as to 
produce the most chaste or gorgeous effects. The appli- 
cation of iron to household furniture is best exempli- 
fied in bedsteads, which are manufactured by scores of 
thousands annually. 

Ornamental iron gates and metal balustrades form no 
inconsiderable item of trade at Effingham Works. 

In one of the erecting shops I noticed an immense 
iron cornice, and found upon inquiry that it was part 
of a contract destined for Bombay. It appears that a 
few wealthy Hindoo merchants, who have commercial 
relations with England, decided upon building a crescent 
&c, in Bombay, which should vie with anything of 
Eastern magnificence. But, as every one knows, there 
is great difficulty in procuring building material and 
skilled labour in India ; so the architects resolved to 
produce in cast-metal work which has hitherto been 
done only in wood and stone. According to their plans 
the foundation and walls of these mansions are to 
be of native brickwork, which will be encased and 
strengthened with iron plates and rods, made and fitted 
in England, the whole to be surmounted by a massive 
metal cornice, of which this now in course of manu- 
facture forms a part. It appears that these terraces 
average from sixty to seventy feet high, verandated in 
cast-iron arcades to the cornice, the style of architecture 
being what is called " Venetian Renaissance." To give 
some idea of the boldness and effect of the work it may 
be mention that the cornicing alone measures eighteen 
feet high, while the projection to the rain-water gutter- 
ing is about five feet, and supported by groups of hand- 
some trusses, with deeply cut mouldings and ornamental 
panels between. The castings consist in great part of 
large plates, only quarter of an inch thick ; these re- 
quire great skill in manufacture. The weight of metal 
in the cornice alone is upwards of 400 tons. Why 
should not Anglo-Hindoo merchants, who martyr 
themselves for wealth, rear their palaces in the sun ? 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 159 

But the sun scorches and wizens not only themselves, 
but their mansions. The expansion and contraction of 
building materials under the tropics has been a matter 
of serious consideration for years. It is well known 
that even iron has a tendency to displace itself under 
variations of the atmosphere, unless this condition is 
specially provided for. It would appear, however, that 
in the production of these magnificent Bombay buildings 
the artist, architect, and engineer, with the manufac- 
turers, are most closely allied.* 

On looking through my notes I find that they partake 
somewhat of a random character, partly owing to this 
fact, that in going through the works I was unable to 
follow the consecutive processes of manufacture. As 
before observed, Effingham Works, as buildings, are 
worthy of attention for their own sake. They are prin- 
cipally composed of three great blocks, the first or front 
(containing the principal workshops, offices, &c.,) is 700 
feet long, and three stories high. The foundry, com- 
prising the second division, is considered one of the 
finest in England, being 500 feet long, with a clear 
span of 70 feet in width, the arched girders resting 
upon the side walls only. This immense and lofty 
building is divided in the centre by the cupolas, or melt- 
ing furnaces. The third block consists of mould-shops, 
smith-shops, &c, &c I learn that there are, in the 
entire buildings, 700 windows, representing upwards 
of 25,000 feet of glass, in addition to the great roof- 
lights. But let us turn to the leading articles of manu- 
facture. Although very interesting to witness, I could 
scarcely describe in detail, without weariness, the 
various processes by which one of those costly stove- 
grates is brought to perfection ; how the models, being 
carefully scraped and filed, are sent into the foundry, 
where between two layers of sand in iron frames, a very 
close and careful impression of each object is taken ; 
how the fluid iron is duly poured into the moulds ; how 
the castings thus produced are, when cool and dressed, 
taken to the grinding wheel, where the surface is pre- 

* In this short sketch of a very interesting branch of trade, 
I am indebted for much necessary information to Mr. E. Firth, 
under whose superintendence the Bombay order is being exe- 
cuted. 



160 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

pared for the finer kinds of finishing ; how the mouldings 
are forged, bent, or fitted, according to the design ; and 
how, lastly, after a great deal of care and labour has 
been bestowed by the polishing and glazing wheels, each 
part of the beautiful structure is securely fastened 
together. 

In marble — such as mantels, the tops of hall tables 
and ladies' work-stands, &c, the firm take the whole 
produce of several continental workshops. I saw a 
diversified array of mantels, with the stove fitted to 
each, which would have gladdened the heart of a sculp- 
tor to behold, so beautiful were the designs, and so ad- 
mirable was the execution. 

Besides the noted Effingham Works, Messrs. Corbitt, 
of Masbro' -street, are widely celebrated for the manu- 
facture of stove-grates, &c, while the Baths Foundry, 
conducted by Messrs. Morgan, Macaulay, and Waide, 
passesses considerable trade in stove-grates and various 
other castings. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 160a 



The Metropolis of Steel. 



Sheffield does not produce any iron ; so far as we 
know, there is not a single smelting furnace in the 
whole district of Hallamshire. Neither is the site of 
this large smoky town remarkable for its mineral wealth 
— ironstone and coal. True, within a radius of twelve 
miles much excellent coal is being brought to the sur- 
face, and I am greatly deceived by the geological for- 
mation if there is not in South, as in North, Yorkshire 
a considerable quantity of argillaceous ore. The yield 
of ironstone about Thorncliffe and Ecclesfield will not be 
so abundant as in the Cleveland hills, and may not 
prove so excellent in quality as that of Low-moor, Bow- 
ling, or Farnley ; still it admits of a question whether 
such ore would not well repay the labour of getting. 

In these days of Macadamised and iron roads, the dif- 
ficulties of conveyance vanish. But how was it in the 
olden time, when every bit of raw material and mer- 
chant stuff had to be transported in and out of Sheffield 
upon pack-horses ? Still, in those ages— ever so many 
years ago — the town was celebrated for manufacturing 
sharp-cutting instruments. It has been surmised that 
Sheffield craftsmen were armour makers to the Ancient 
Britons. If it be asked, what historical evidence there 
is for this assumption, we may reply, What historical 
evidence is there to controvert it ? None ; therefore, 
let the matter be chronicled among the minutiae of pos- 
sibilities. On a fine elevation, named Wincobank (but 
which, in the beginning, might be called Winco-camp), 
about two miles from Sheffield, there are remains of a 
military encampment. The circular form of the camp 



160& STORIES AND SKETCHES 

on that grand hill-top may still be observed. It was 
originally large and commanding. This favourable site 
is one of nature's rearing, as is to a great extent the 
hilly range extending from it west tewards Grimes- 
thorpe, and eastward for six or seven miles, becoming 
lost in the valley (which, anciently, would be a great 
marsh) in the neighbourhood of Mexborough. But 
there is abundant evidence that those natural ramparts 
have been strengthened and extended at a great expense 
of labour and material. A question now arises — Who 
made these fortifications ? The opinion generally en- 
tertained is that Winco-camp, with its ramparts, was 
one of the chief defences of the Brigantines.* The 
most uncultivated tribes have made great embankments, 
and reared immense earthworks. But must we infer 
that they excavated with their fingers, and carried up 
the material in the hollow of their hands ? No ; they 
had tools of some kind. There is a notion very pre- 
valent that the Ancient Britons had no implements of 
iron or steel ; nothing but what was made of bone or 
flint. What evidence have we to support this conclu- 
sion ? Nay, it is the very absence of evidence which 
determines the question. And so, because after fifteen 
or sixteen centuries no ancient British iron has developed 
an anti- corrosive property superior to anything ever 
manufactured, savans repudiate the fact of its exis- 
tence. Iron tools manufactured in the neighbourhood 
of Winco-camp might have been used in this very con- 
struction. It is a probable surmise that when the De 
Lovetots were lords of Sheffield (Roger De Busli was the 
first Norman proprietor after the Conquest), and con- 
structed a mill (that great necessity of life), and built a 
bridge over the Don, and a hospital for the sick, that 
crafty men were producing there such articles of steel as 
the times required. And yet, as we have before seen, 
steel is but converted iron. If not smelted on the spot, 
where did they get the iron to convert ? It is highly 
probable that when Richard De Builli granted those 
four forges for smelting and working iron, to the monks 

* After a careful survey of these interesting works, I feel 
inclined to give them a Roman origin, and to consider the 
ramparts more in the light of Roman roads through a marshy 
country than as means of defence. 






RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 161 

of Kimberworth, that the trade of Sheffield absorbed a 
great share of their production. Moreover, under the 
powerful De Furnivals, who obtained a weekly market 
for Sheffield, greatly enlarging its trading facilities, it is 
reasonable to infer that the inhabitants had gained some 
distinction by the manufacture of articles from steel. 
But we have really no historical grounds for all such in- 
ference. Strange, but true, old Chaucer is the earliest 
historian of the Sheffield trade, the information he gives 
us being all contained within one single line — 

" A Shefeld thwytel bare he in his hose ;" 
Proving, however, an important fact, that in the 1 5th cen- 
tury Sheffield had attained a national distinction for the 
manufacture of " whittles," which were a long sheathed 
knife, used for every available purpose, from cutting a 
piece of bread to cutting a throat. The Earl of Shrews- 
bury (a later lord of Sheffield) presented, in 1575, to 
Burghley, " a case of whittles," with an intimation 
that they were " such fruictes as his pore country 
afforded with fame therefrom." We have evidence 
also, that not only in " whittles" but in other instru- 
ments of steel Sheffield was A 1. At the battle of 
Bosworth Earl Richmond's arrows were celebrated above 
the rest, being long, sharp and strong : these were 
manufactured at Sheffield. Still, at this time, and for 
two centuries afterwards, Sheffield was poor and in- 
significant in comparison to her present goodly propor- 
tions. We need no stronger evidence of this fact than 
the following copy of an original document : — 

" By a survaie of the towne of Sheffield made the 
second daie of Januarie, 1615, by twenty-four of the 
most sufficient inhabitants there, it appeareth that there 
are in the towne of Sheffield 2,207 people : of which 
there are 725 which are not able to live without the 
charity of their neighbours. These are all begging 
poore. 100 householders which relieve others. These 
(though the best sorte) are but poor artificers : among 
them there is not one which can keep a teaaae on his 
own eand, and not above tenn who have grounds of 
their oune that will keep a cow. 160 householders, not 
able to relieve others. These are such (though they beg 
not) as are not able to abide the storme of one fort- 
night's sickness, but would be thereby driven to beg- 
gary.— [How many are there in the town now who 

K 



162 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

would be reduced to the same extremity by the same 
circumstances?] — 1,223 children of the said house- 
holders, the greatest part of which are such as live of 
small wages, and are constrained to worke sore, to pro- 
vide their necessaries." 

For a hundred years or more, after this survey, the 
town made but little progress, either in population or 
wealth. The people of Rotherham say their grand- 
fathers told them that letters were usually addressed 
"Sheffield, near Rothertam," and avow that the old 
gazetteers describe it as "Sheffield, a village near 
Rotherham." 

There is here and there, it may be, an individual who 
has never been to Sheffield ; — knows there is such a 
place, heard a great deal about its being dismal and 
dirty, but never saw it. Well, for once in his lifetime 
he must visit the Metropolis of Steel. Starting either 
from Masbrough or from Rotherham, he soon arrives 
at a station called Brightside ; from thence into Shef- 
field, on both sides of the railway, the mass of manu- 
factories is appalijig. There are also many thousand 
roods of new buildings in every stage of erection, Vul- 
can surely must have fixed his head-quarters in Shef- 
field. And what a large stock-in-trade he holds. Here 
are immense piles of pig-iron ready to be melted, and 
great stacks of blister-steel, with huge ingots of Besse- 
mer steel, ready to be forged or rolled : of all this our 
visitor gets a passing glimpse as he is whirled by the 
railway train into Sheffield. 

I believe that at the present time (August 1866) Shef- 
field is in a better condition as regards trade than many 
other large towns. Commercially speaking England just 
now is passing under a cloud. For about three* months 
the Bank rate of interest has been ten per cent. Week 
by week witnesses the downfall of gigantic manufactur- 
ing and trading establishments ; four or five banks have 
suspended payment, with liabilities amounting to twice as 
many millions ; while people have been compelled to 
throw upon the market tangible securities at a very 
great sacrifice. And what is the cause of all this ? In- 

* During the last few days, since the above was written, the 
Bank of England has reduced its rate of discount to eight per 
cent. 



RELATING! TO YORKSHIRE, 163 

sane speculation — nothing else. Three months ago, a 
vast body of speculators — constituting what was called 
the rig — thought that by buying up the great bulk of 
pig-iron, at any rate, they could gain a monopoly in the 
article. They did succeed in advancing the price to 
70s., yea even 77s. per ton ; and in their mad en- 
thusiasm thought of dictating their own terms to the 
great body of consumers. But the general course of 
events did not happen to be propitious, things went 
wrong on the continent, things went wrong in many of 
the great financial and discount houses, while not a few 
of those colossal trading establishments have collapsed, 
after going sadly wrong. The result is that there is 
pig-iron by thousands of tons (bought at those extreme 
rates) in the market, now seeking customers at a reduc- 
tion of one-third. At the present time, with the pre- 
sent prices, it may be that the iron manufacturers do 
not find their trade remunerative, and as the workmen 
will not consent to a reduction of wages scores of fur- 
naces in Scotland and the north of England are "blown 
out," while above ten thousand furnace-men and 
puddlers are bereft of employment. I wish the cloud 
would pass over, and the golden sun would revive and 
invigorate our drooping trade. But, my dear sir, what 
means that emphatic grunt, and that self-satisfied toss 
of the head ? 

Reader : I knew how it would be— I said so from 
the first. 

Myself : What did you say ? 

Reader : That Limited Liability Companies would 
ruin the country. 

Myself : Then you said a very foolish thing. Let 
us argue the point calmly and rationally. You and I 
can remember the commencement of our first railways ; 
we can remember, also, a time of panic, when the crash 
came, and a howl of anguish arose from the great com- 
mercial heart ; all this latter was owing to mad and 
wicked railway speculation. But who will say that 
railways have been the ruin of the country ? 

Reader: The illustration may be very melodious to 
your ears, but on mine it grates. Perhaps you were 
bitten by the railway mania ? 

Myself : No. Have you been taken in by the glozing 
prospectus of some Joint Stock Company, Limited ? 

K 3 



164 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

Reader : I've had more sense. 

Myself : Personally, then, we should both of us be 
in a position to reason upon this great question without 
prejudice. But you knew the turn things would take 
from the first. 

Reader : My argument is this. — The philosophical 
idea of limiting men's liability is radically unsound ; 
and the greatest curse to England came when such an 
act passed our legislature. I never heard one good 
argument in favour of Limited Liability ; on the con- 
trary any one may see that the system takes its rise in 
national gullibility, and ends in a system of legalized 
plunder. 

Myself. — My dear sir, philosophically speaking, this 
is not argument, but a dictum. Give us the premises 
upon which you base such a conclusion. 

Reader : Well, if you will have them, here they are 
— and, first, let us look at the manner in which these 
companies are got up. There is a large, and, it may 
be, old-established, but insolvent firm . The proprietors 
are men of influence ; they engage two or three expe- 
rienced fowlers, who decoy raw capitalists by the hope 
of enormous dividends. 

Myself : They frequently guarantee a liberal divi- 
dend for a number of years. 

Reader : Wait a bit. The plant and stock-in-trade 
of this established firm are valued at three or four times 
the amount they would fetch under ordinary circum- 
stances : a very large sum, also, is put down for good- 
will. The old proprietors, after taking a considerable 
number of shares, pocket a surplus more than equal to 
their vested interest, and, it may be, receive a very 
liberal salary annually as managers. As you say, a 
maximum dividend is guaranteed for two or three 
years, and, with plenty of capital the resuscitated con- 
cern speeds gloriously, alterations and extensions are 
carried out on a very extensive scale, for, as the money 
belongs to no one in particular, there is great reckless- 
ness in spending it. The apparent prosperity of a few large 
firms stimulate a multitude of smaller ones, all eager to 
be incorporated upon the fashionable principle of 
Limited Liability, and all rushing on in a mad scamper 
to get rich, until some convulsion of the money 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 165 

market puts the drag on reckless trading, and the firms 
are wound up in chancery. 

Myself : This argument will apply equally to all 
reckless trading, whether conducted upon the principle 
of limited or unlimited liability. Business is constantly 
subject to vicissitudes and panics, which weed out all 
that is bad or unsound, but strengthens what is good. 

Reader : I cannot get you to comprehend the gist of 
my argument. 

Myself : Then I must be very blind. 

Reader : There are none so blind as those who will 
not see . Look here — as a rule people with little respon- 
sibility are in the highest degree careless, often- 
times reckless . The managers and shareholders of such 
companies may contract debts to an unlimited extent, 
and yet be liable only for the amount of their shares. 
Do you not see that the system offers a premium to 
careless trading, or something worse ? 

Myself : Indeed, I do not ; for the only legitimate 
interest the shareholders can have is to secure a pro- 
fitable investment. A man is not the less careful of his 
thousand pounds because they do not happen to repre- 
sent all that he is worth. If he joins other capitalists 
in accomplishing what no one singly would have either 
the courage or the means of doing, it will be their 
united interest to make the concern prosper. Union 
is strength. 

Reader : There are not wanting men — aye, and what 
the world calls shrewd men — who will run a little risk 
for the sake of extraordinary profits : these are ready 
to launch an undertaking with the full expectation of 
eventually seeing it founder. In a few years, it may be, 
they will get their money back, and something more ; 
afterwards the crash comes, and the public have to pay 
for their defalcations. 

Myself : To my mind this is the most foolish argu- 
ment of all. If a company can stem the tide of pre- 
judice — which the force of adventitious circumstances 
has, just now, accellerated to a perfect flood ; if it can 
continue in operation until the shareholders have re- 
ceived back in dividends all their capital, and some- 
thing more, the probabilities are that it will become 
consolidated, and the advantages multiply themselves 



166 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

year by year. It is said that the man who produces 
two ears of com where but one grew before is a bene- 
factor to bis race ; then how much more good does he 
do who developes the trade to find the money to buy 
the corn after it is grown. There are individual men 
who have gained, by their own bold but practical ideas 
a great position in trade ; gained much wealth, even to 
satiety ; they desire repose, for other purposes, and 
more enticing honours await their acceptance. The 
name and connections of the firm are a tower of strength; 
and there are fresh men, with new impulses, ambitious 
for trade. Why should it not be so ? 

But, a truce to arguments, let us see what two 
leviathan establishments can accomplish on the principle 
of limited liability. 



ATLAS WORKS, 

(John Brow a and Co., Limited.) 

A stranger'may be pardoned if he takes his first im- 
pressions of Sheffield from the appearance of the rail- 
way station by which he enters it. Coming from the 
north, he must of necessity make his entrance at the 
Wicker Station of the Midland Comoany, which is the 
embodiment of everything mean and dismal and incon- 
venient. A great moral obligation rests with the 
directors of such an important railway to remove this 
standing libel from the town. It may be pleaded in ex- 
cuse for inferior accommodation that Sheffield is not 
placed upon the trunk line of the Midland Company, 
but is simply the terminus of a short branch from Mas- 
brough and Rotherham. This is so ; and yet when we 
look at the immense traffic — human, mineral, and mer- 
chandise — transported to and from this place, the re- 
quirements demand from the Midland proprietary a 
more equitable acknowledgment. But enough on this 
head ; let us jostle through the awkward place as best 
we can, and make our way into Saville-street, past the 
imposing Cyclops Works (of which we shall have plenty 
to say hereafter), to the greatest of all great firms con- 
nected with the Metropolis of Steel. Being now fairly 
surrounded with factories, the angles of which seemed 






RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 



167 



at an interminable distance, I enquired for the entrance 
into John Brown & Co.'s Works. " Keep to the left for 
aboub five hundred yards, and you will see the arched 
gateway," said my informant ; "John Brown is close be- 
hind you." I turned to look, when a rather portly man, 
a little under the middle height, passed us. His coun- 
tenance spoke much more of comfort and serenity than 
care ; indeed, there was aboub his whole bearing a quiet 
dignity as of one whom prosperity could neither make 
imperious nor vain. Judging from the breadth of his 
brow, and the circumference of his hat, he seemed to 
have a large head. I once remarked to an intelligent 
foreman that iron-masters and managers generally had 
large heads. How is it ? "Well," said he, " it is be- 
cause such heads have had to do a great deal of work ;" 
and, it may be, this is a logical inference. 

On the previous evening, when some miles away, I 
had posted a little note to the manager, asking per- 
mission to look through the Atlas Works ; and now, 
after ascending a flight of steps into a magnificent office, 
ventured to make the request in person. There were 
half a dozen gentlemen sitting round a spacious table ; 
but there was not a face which I had ever seen before, 
except the now uncovered head of him who was pointed 
out to me in Saville-street as the founder of the firm. 
Yes, I had their full consent to see everything about 
the works that might interest me, and write about any- 
thing, just as it appeared. A clerk from one of the 
offices was sent for to act as a guide, and when he ap- 
peared received certain instructions. " Shew Mr. 

through every part of the works, not hurriedly, but 
giving sufficient time to observe the operations." So 
we went on our way. 

One may form some idea of the vast trade carried on 
here when told that the Atlas Works cover more than 
twenty-two acres of ground (almost entirely built upon), 
and that there are about 3,000 hands regularly em- 
ployed. Two thousand tons of iron floorplates are laid 
in a few of the shops. The mass of buildings contain 
53 steam-engines, ranging from 5 to 150 horse power 
each. It is computed that 1,200 tons of iron and 5,000 
tons of fuel are required weekly at the Atlas Works ; 
while the amount of carriage paid to the Midland Rail- 
way Company alone is upwards of £30,000 per annum. 



168 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

I had scarcely left the office before an important con- 
troversy arose in my mind, for thought is quick. A 
voice (which must have come from the Genii of Com- 
mon Sense) whispered — Now be careful ; for how can 
you, a poor literary waif, presume to give the public 
any correct ideas respecting the mechanical productions 
of iron and steel. To back the caution memory sup- 
plied me with a case in point. Sturdy Sam Johnson 
was once asked why he defined " fetlock" as the knee 
of a horse. " It was ignorance sir," he replied, 
" nothing else." Here are many hundreds of skilled 
workmen, who know their departments thoroughly, 
having been years at the trade ; and yet even they 
would find great difficulty in explaining by words what 
they understand so well in practice. Then how can one 
like myself, with none of this practical experience, give 
any adequate description of these works, merely as the 
result of two or three hours' observation ? 

Our first visit was to the furnaces, numbering about 
60 in all, where the iaw or pig iron is puddled.* By 
this process, as we have before seen, the "boiled" 
metal becomes oxidised ; then, after repeated stirring, 
when it has acquired a thick, pasty consistence, the 
contents of each furnace is divided into two or more 
balls, and shingled under one of the thirty-six ponder- 
ous steam-hammers. The "blooms"" are re-heated, and 
again shingled, for the iron acquires additional value 
the more it is compressed and condensed. The "billets" 
are again re-heated and drawn under powerful rollers of 
graduating dimensions, and the iron is manufactured 
into bars or sheets, according to the purpose for which 
it is designed. Before the iron is reduced to its per- 
fect malleable condition, it will have lost at least 15 
per cent, in weight ; for during the processes of shingl- 
ing and rolling great quantities of scoria are brought to 
the surface and expelled. The furnaces here are cap- 
able of turning out above 300 tons of iron per week, 
and there are in the mills fifteen "trains,' comprising 
about 40 pairs of rollers. 

* It appears that Mr. Brown, together with his partners, 
Messrs. Ellis and Bragge, first intoduced the manufacture of 
iron iuto Sheffield, which they did about nine years ago, at the 
Atlas Works ; although at this period the latter did not 
reach one quarter of their present dimensions. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 169 

I understand the Company merchant a quantity of 
boiler-plates, &c. ; still more than three-fourths of the 
iron manufactured here is used on the premises, either 
in armour-plates, or for conversion into steel. 

Messrs. John Brown and Co. have a world-wide repu- 
tation for the manufacture of armour-plates — immense 
iron walls for our navy and coast defences. It was not 
possible that I could see one particular plate begun and 
finished, since the various processes extend over several 
days ; but I witnessed some of the more important 
operations, saw a number of plates in various stages of 
completion, and had such explanations given as enabled 
me to form a general conception of the entire rationale. 
An immense ball of puddled iron is taken from the fur- 
nace, and after being helved or shingled, is rolled into 
a slab about 6 feet long, one foot broad, and an inch 
thick. Then, while hot, this slab is sheared into two 
equal parts. Strange as it may appear, above a hun- 
dred of such slabs will be required in the manufacture 
of a single plate. Four or five of them are piled to- 
gether (cross-wise, so that the fibre shall run in different 
directions), heated, and rolled into one plate about four 
feet square. The piling, heating, and rolling is re- 
peated, until the whole are reduced to four "plate- 
moulds," each measuring about 8 feet long, 3 feet 
wide, and 2 inches in thickness. These four immense 
moulds have finally to be rolled into one plate. 

It is wonderful to see the appliances of machinery. 
The Atlas Works contain 15 travelling hoists, running 
on iron girders, each of which can lift upwards of 
twenty tons. There are, also, about 30 stationary 
cranes ; besides several steam travelling cranes upon 
carriages. Truly, it requires the highest stretch of 
ingenuity, and much strength, to deal with enormous 
masses of iron like those before us. 

When I arrived in front of that great furnace, the 
"moulds" composing an entire armour-plate were being 
heated. But the question arose, how were they got 
into the furnace ? So far as I understand it the method 
adopted is as follows : — Those four " plate-moulds" are 
severally swung to the rear of the furnace by a powerful 
crane, and piled upon a carriage . The front and back 
doors of the furnace are opened, and the carriage with 



170 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

its contents drawn in. The four-fold plate is then 
lifted by means of levers to its pedestal of fire-bricks, 
and the empty carriage withdrawn. The doors are then 
closed, every interstice being filled up with sand, and 
the furnace heated. It should be observed that plugs 
were placed at the corners, between each strata of iron, 
so that the fire may penetrate through them separately ; 
and yet it requires something like six hours of 
intense heat to reduce those combined " moulds" to a 
welding condition. Fortunately I was in time to wit- 
ness the next, and most interesting part of the opera- 
tions. The plate-mill contains two or three pairs of 
rolls, measuring about 8 feet long, and nearly 3 feet 
in diameter ; while the staff of workmen numbers 
about seventy. By-and-by a carriage is brought, and 
fastened to the front of the furnace. An immense pair 
of tongs, requiring the strength of four men to carry 
them, are placed upon the carriage. One end of a 
heavy chain is passed round the upper roller, while the 
other end, having a hook attached, is made fast to the 
pincers. Now, mark the result. Those pincers are 
passed through a little door, and made to grip the red- 
hot metal ; the mouth of the fiery furnace is opened, 
when forth issues a great volume of flame ; the roller 
revolves, and draws its load gently on to the carriage. 
And now the chain is withdrawn from the roller ; the 
carriage is liberated ; about fifty men attach themselves 
to the chain (unconcerned that the huge mass spits fire, 
sending out far and wide a furious glare), and drag the 
stratified plate to the rolls. Then what a grip ! The 
metal is drawn through, as if it were but dough. 
Crack, crack, thud ! The rolls go crunching round 
with furious noise, scattering the red-hot hail. Soberly 
speaking, until the glowing mass had gone once through 
he rolls, I was glad to keep at a respectable distance, 
while the repeated concussion reminded one of nothing 
so much as a volley of musketry in a closed room. But 
what admirable coolness, the results of much skill, 
those workmen seem to display ; for no sooner has the 
compressed mass once passed through, on to the opposite 
carriage, than the rollers are immediately reversed, 
drawing the plate backwards ; and so on several times 
repeated, while streams of water are poured upon the 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 171 

plate, and brooms are very freely used to remove the 
surface scales. It may be, that a great blister, or air 
bubble rises on the plate ; a punch attached to a long 
handle is struck by a heavy hammer into tbe'hissing 
iron, and the " blob" soon disappears. After being 
sufficiently rolled, the solidified mass is straightened by 
rolling it upon iron floor plates. It thus remains for 
many hours ; then, when sufficiently cool, immense 
planing machines are employed, which square the edges 
to as great a nicety as if the material had been soft, 
like wood. As near as I can compute, the plate before 
me would measure about 10 feet long, by 3 feet 6 
inches wide, and 4 inches in thickness. The firm have 
manufactured armour-plates nearly 20 feet long, 7 feet 
broad, and above 12 inches thick, the weight being 
about thirty tons. 

And now let us see what becomes of the remainder 
of puddled iron. 

We have already described the ordinary method by 
which iron is converted into steel ; how the bars of 
malleable iron are piled in firestone troughs, between 
alternate layers of charcoal ; and how, after several days' 
roasting, the bar-iron becomes impregnated with carbon. 
You understand it ? The high temperature of the fur- 
nace (about 100° Wedgwood) evaporises the carbon, and 
also opens the pores of the iron ; thus absorption takes 
place. When in the course of ten or twelve days the 
bars are taken out, they present a brown, charred ap- 
pearance, with numerous air bubbles or blisters on the 
surface. Hence the name of blister steel. Still the 
process of " cementation," as it is called, cannot secure 
a uniform absorption throughout all the bars in the 
same trough, nor even in every part of the same bar. 
To rectify these inequalities, and to give a more perfect 
homogeneity to the entire mass, the bars of blister steel 
are heated, and tilted or hammered. You understand 
it ? The heating and hammering is repeated, when two 
or more bars are welded together ; hence the names 
" double," " single," or " half-shear" steel. The Atlas 
Works contain eighteen converting furnaces ; each fur- 
nace of two troughs capable of producing about 30 tons 
of blister steel. I forget how many tilt-hammers there 
are. 



172 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

Cast steel, as we have before seen, is simply blister 
steel melted. By this process the mass becomes very 
homogeneous, for the carbon is thoroughly disseminated. 
The melting furnaces are built underground, and are fed 
with coke. There are holes in the floor (covered with 
fire-proof lids) through which the crucibles are put in 
and taken out. Let us recapitulate the modus operandi. 
First of all, the empty pot, minus the lid, is lowered 
amongst the red-hot coke in the furnace. When at a 
white heat, broken pieces of blister steel (and, I believe, 
either an oxide or carburet of manganese) are poured in ; 
the aperture in the floor is closed up and the melting be- 
gins. Two or three hours will elapse before the steel is 
properly melted ; but the whole process requires great 
care and discrimination. A casual spectator will be 
most interested in the process of "teeming." Here a 
great deal of coolness and dexterity are required to lift 
out the fiery pots, and pour the dazzling contents into 
ingot moulds. 

Cast steel is very hard, and capable of receiving a 
high polish ; it is, therefore, best adapted for the finer 
descriptions of cutlery. 

Whilst writing these meagre sketches of an important 
trade, it has more than once struck me that the ortho- 
dox processes of steel manufacture are very defective, 
and will be soon almost totally superseded. First of all 
comes " puddling," to deprive the iron of carbon ; and 
then by a slow process (cementation) the iron is car- 
bonised afresh. Why this roundabout system ? The 
difficulty appears to be in assimulating the true propor- 
tion of carbon, which must not exceed one and a quarter 
per cent. ; while pig-iron contains about 5 per cent. 
Now if the elimination of carbon in puddling furnace 
could be checked at a certain point, one would think 
that nothing might be required but to get rid of the 
scoria and other impurities. 

At a meeting of the British Association at Notting- 
ham, just concluded, a paper by Mr. R. Mushet was 
read "On the treatment of melted cast-iron, and its 
conversion into iron and steel by the pneumatic process." 
The writer claims a priority of invention over Mr. Bes- 
semer in the main features of that process which bears 
the latter gentleman's name. There is some evidence 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 173 

that nearly twenty years ago the Mushets succeeded in 
decarbonising iron direct from the smelting furnace by 
means of the blast, afterwards pouring in a quantity of 
melted spiegel eisen ; but although their metal was 
then brought into a condition resembling crude steel, it 
became at the same time too highly oxygenated, and for 
all practical purposes almost worthless. Now it is quite 
obvious, as Mr. Mushet would contend, "that steel of 
a marketable quality might have been obtained, simply by 
adding some metallic manganese." If subsequently Mr. 
Mushet did succeed in producing large masses of steel 
by the union of decarbonised with spiegel iron, and lost 
all the benefit of his invention from an inadvertence in 
the payment of stamp duty, then is the whole question 
fairly open to discussion. Mr. Mushet, however, never 
appears to have advanced further than the ordinary ap- 
pliances of melting pots, and never thought it possible 
to maintain "a tuyere beneath a heavy column of 
melted cast-iron." But this latter result forms the chief 
characteristic of the Bessamer process. It was not until 
after years of persevering energy, displayed in numerous 
experiments, that the renowned process of converting 
crude into malleable iron, and also into steel, was ac- 
complished. 

When we arrived at the first and oldest converting 
house, the process was completed ; the vessel had just 
delivered its charge, and was turned with its mouth 
to the ground emptying the refuse scoria, " Never 
mind," said my guide ; " We may have better luck at 
the new converting house :" and so it turned out, for on 
arriving at the place indicated, a bright stream of melted 
metal was running down a trough into the neck of the 
lemon-shaped converter. 

But before we describe the Bessamer process, it will 
be necessary to notice the machinery and appliances in 
use. First of all let us look into the engine-house. 
Here are two horizontal engines coupled, with an united 
power of 60 horses ; these are entirely for the blast. 
There are, also, two small upright engines coupled ; 
these are to work the hydraulic ram. Close by are four 
air-furnaces, each capable of melting about three tons 
of pig-iron per hour, while at a short distance is another 
furnace for the melting of spiegel iron only. In the 



174 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

spacious shop or converting-bouse is a sunken circular 
pit, something like twenty feet in diameter, and sixteen 
feet deep. Within are the two converting vessels (one 
only being used at a time, while the other undergoes 
repair) which are in shape something like a chemist's 
retort, with the neck broken off very near the bulb. 
They are made of strong boiler-plates, lined with gan- 
ister, and are mounted on axes in the centre, so that by 
means of a crank worked by hand, the converter may 
be turned top or bottom upwards, or made to describe 
quarter of a circle. In each converter, at the reverse 
end from the spout, are seven holes, each about four 
inches in diameter, and fitted with a fireproof tube, the 
whole terminating in an iron neck with a single wide 
orifice, which latter can be easily fixed by cotters, &c, 
to the blast pipe. Moreover, in tbe centre of this pit 
stands the ram, which is worked by a hydraulic press. 
At the top of this upright pillar or ram is a horizontal 
beam, capable of moving all round the pit. To one end 
of the beam is attached the cauldron, or " receiver," as 
it is called, while at the other end there is a counter- 
poise. At the circumference of the pit, ranged in a 
semi-circle, are the ingot moulds, of varying dimensions. 
Now, let us observe the mode of operation. By means 
of a crank, the converter is brought down with its neck 
in a horizontal position, the furnaces are tapped, and 
the red-hot metal runs down the spout into the vessel. 
The stream is stopped just when the slag begins to ap- 
pear. Presently the converter is tilted, as if by an unseen 
power, into a verticle position, with the neck under an 
upright shaft or chimney. And now the blast is put on 
in force, and a novice might think the vessel was belch- 
ing forth its entire contents in an eruption of sparks. 
For a short time the sparks are large and gross, accom- 
panied by a lurid violet-flame. In about five minutes, 
when the slag and grosser impurities have been thrown 
out, a huge column of bright yellow-flame goes fiercely 
upwards ; the corruscations grow more bright, and the 
roaring sound increases. To one like myself, who had 
never witnessed such a process before, the whole scene 
had something like a fascination. But, Oh ! said I, if 
the devilish thing should burst ! " It won't burst," re- 
plied my guide. But supposing the vessel was to swing 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE, 175 

backwards, what then? "Why then," said he, "it 
would be all up with us here." I concluded that it 
would. But see, the flame assumes a dazzling white- 
ness — a brightness equal to the electric-light, and scorch- 
ing as the sun. The heat becomes intense as the carbon 
unites with the oxygen ; while the roar is like Niagara. 
On a dark winter's evening, the whole operation will 
seem like an embodiment of the supernatural. Milton, 
in his imaginary Palace of Hell, has scarcely developed 
a grander sight. And now, Mr. George Brown (a nephew 
of John Brown, Esq.), who has the management of this 
process, came and looked on. Although it usually re- 
quires about twenty minutes to thoroughly decarbonise 
the iron in the converter, still, a practiced operator can 
tell by the eye, from the appearance of the flame, better 
than by his watch, when the process is completed. At 
a given signal from the manager, the blast is checked, 
the vessel is tilted with its nozzle in a horizontal posi- 
tion, as before, and soon another stream of melted metal 
(the spiegel eisen) runs down another trough and mixes 
with the decarbonised iron in the converter. 

Thus, in about twenty minutes, the mass has been 
thoroughly decarbonised without a particle of fuel, and 
becomes far purer malleable iron than any which could 
be produced in the puddling furnace. There is this 
singular difference in the result of the two processes, 
however, that whereas by this blast the fluid condition 
of the iron is entirely preserved, that in the puddling- 
furnace assumes a thick, pasty consistence. Bessamer 
has apparently another advantage over puddled iron, 
viz., in an equality of condition; there are in it no 
partially decarbonised bits, or lumps of cinder, necessi- 
tating their expulsion by hammering and rolling. 

The spiegel eisen, now running into the converter, is 
to introduce into the pure iron the one per cent, of 
carbon necessary to transform the mass into steel. One 
might suppose that if the process of decarbonisation 
could be checked at some particular stages, various 
qualities of iron and steel might be produced by this 
process ; still, as a practical result, it is thought best 
to entirely decarbonise the iron operated upon, and 
afterwards add the requisite proportion of carbonaceous 
material. 



176 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

And now commences the process of teeming, which 
requires a great deal of care. The hydraulic ram is 
brought into requisition. The huge metal bucket (lined 
with ganister) attached to one end of the beam, is 
brought under the converter, the latter is tilted with 
the spout downward, and the contents are poured into 
the cauldron. At the bottom of this receiver there is 
an opening, fitted with a fire-proof stopper ; and as the 
vessel is brought in succession over the ingot moulds, the 
orifice is opened and shut as required. When the 
masses of steel have partially cooled, the moulds are 
drawn upwards by the hydraulic ram, and afterwards 
the ingots are lifted out of the pit. The size of these 
ingots is regulated according to the purpose for which 
such masses of steel are required, and may range from 
1 cwt. to 8 or 10 tons weight each. 

I understand that about 8 tons of metal is usually 
converted in one vessel at a time, the process being re- 
peated about eight times in the day of 24 hours ; so 
that, allowing for accidents, &c, the two converting- 
houses at these works will produce upwards of 100 tons 
of Bessamer steel per day. 

The productions of steel, which employ about two- 
thirds of the hands, are heavy cranks and axles, conical 
steel shot for rifled guns, some of which are forged above 
lOOlbs. weight ; locomotive and carriage springs ; and, 
more particularly, steel rails, the demand for which is 
increasing week by week. 

Just before leaving the works, a dark man, with a 
very foreign appearance, passed us. "See," said the 
guide, "that is a Russian Inspector. We have now a 
contract on hand for the Russian Government." 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 177 

Charles Cammell and Co., (Limited). 

The Cyclops Works. 



The Cyclops form another square of those immense 
works which skirt the Midland Railway, and abut upon 
Saville-street. Thirty years ago the surface of this dis- 
trict was brown and bare, relieved with patches of 
mouldy green herbage, which did not yield a large an- 
nual revenue. Not a house was to be seen. That was 
the time to speculate in landed property. "It could 
not be bought !" I forgot — it could not be bought. 
This common formed the addenda of estates which have 
since yielded to lordly proprietors the richest sources of 
income. Thus it is that our grand old feudal inheritors 
have profited by the shrewd business skill and the horny 
hand of the industrious. Then, who will contend now 
for a separate class interest, or isolate himself from the 
general community ? 

In 1843, Mr. Chas. Cammel began to lay the nucleus 
of these great works, upon those bare fields. At that 
time the venture was thought a bold one — not three or 
four roods, but as many acres of land covered with 
buildings. People shook their heads, and said the 
works were too unweildy ever to be managed ; a suf- 
ficient trade could never be found to employ such great 
works. Why, in their grandfather's time, Sheffield was 
thought to be doing a prime trade when it could send 
two tons of steel to Birmingham in a week ; their great 
grandfathers felt proud when a string of pack horses, 
laden with cutlery, would leave the town about once a 
month for London ; and, although the demand for 
manufactured steel and cutlery had vastly increased 
since those days, still there were limits to be regarded, 
and overproduction would now inevitably provejtheir 
ruin. The sceptics prophesied falsely, business was-. 
found ; instead of the accommodation being too large for 
the trade, the trade soon became too vast for the accom- 
modation. Extensions and enlargements went on year 
by year, until, in lieu of four, the Cyclops Works 

L 



178 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

cevered nearly fourteen acres. But what are they now, 
as a Limited Liability Company, with a nominal capital 
of one million sterling, and upwards of 3,000 workmen? 
We shall see. First of all, I would take this opportu- 
nity of presenting my acknowledgments to Mr. Geo. 
Wilson, the general manager ; also to his brother, Mr. 
Alex. Wilson (who acted as my guide), for some valuable 
information respecting the Cyclops Works. It could 
easily be seen that my guide was proud of the Cyclops. 
"They are almost the oldest works in Sheffield," said 
he ; " they have gone on steadily increasing from the 
commencement, and now form one of the finest establish- 
ments in Europe. " A great deal has been written lately, 
in some London journals, about the superiority of foreign 
steel works ; but such writers are pitifully ignorant res- 
pecting the magnitude and productions of similar con- 
cerns in England. The works at home are doing more 
wonderful things than any achieved by continental 
establishments, although in some of the latter private 
enterprise is supplemented by government aid. 

It appears that there are here 50 steam stationary 
engines ; 50 steam hammers of all weights, up to 25 
tons ; besides an hydraulic press of twelve hundred and 
fifty tons, which latter is employed in heavy steel forg- 
ing for cannons, &c. ; consequently an enormous num- 
ber of boilers 'will be required to supply steam for all 
this machinery. There are also fifteen rolling mills. 

About eight years ago the manufacture of iron was 
introduced here upon a large scale. At present upwards 
of 60 puddling furnaces are employed, with all their re- 
quisite machinery. Great quantities of locomotive 
plates are rolled and finished ready for use ; indeed, as 
the works include both iron and brass foundries, any- 
thing belonging to the construction of a locomotive or 
stationary engine can be produced here. 

An important branch of the iron trade, as might be 
anticipated, is the production of armour plates, about 
200 tons per week being manufactured at the Cyclops 
Works. The large planing shop in connection with this 
department deserves particular attention ; it contains 20 
machines for "slotting" and "planing" armour plates ; 
while a travelling crane, capable of lifting 20 tons, is 
infrequent requisition. Plates fourteen inches thick 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE, 179 

have been rolled at these works ; but the average num- 
ber range from four-and-a-half to six inches thick. 
When these immense plates are securely bolted together, 
with from twelve to eighteen inches of timber behind 
them, one would think that they must be invulnerable. 
After the Warrior was floated, our naval architects felt 
secure, and said, confidently, that she was invulnerable 
to the best guns and the heaviest shot. But no sooner had 
armour plates attained this high state of perfection than 
the restless genius of mechanics went off in an opposite 
direction, and now the case stands thus — ordnance and 
projectiles versus armour plates. For two or three years 
past our ears have been deafened with the competition 
of guns, and the public have been in doubt whether the 
palm should be awarded to Whitworth or to Armstrong. 
At the present moment our attention is directed from the 
gun to the shot and shell ; it is the projectile which does 
the execution. During the present month a series of 
experiments have been made at Shoeburyness, which 
have induced many newspapers to say that the plated 
sides of the Warrior can afford no more protection than 
basket work. Gtentleinen of the press are apt some- 
times to indulge in hyperboles. Six inches of solid 
iron, with eighteen inches of teak, all well bolted 
together, can resist an enormous amount of battering. 
For two or three years our Warrior targets resisted the 
most powerful artillery which could be brought against 
them ; and we must remember that a 500 pounder on 
terra firma, at 300 yards distance, must be far more 
effective than anything which could be predicated in 
naval warfare. It is not so now, however ; for, as 
recent experiments have demonstrated, the Palliser shot 
and shell cut clean through a target far stronger than 
the Warrior's side. Here we had armour plates 8 inches 
thick, backed with 18 inches of timber, and an inner 
wrought-iron skin, the whole mass being strengthened 
with the most powerful iron girders and bolts which 
could be devised. A nine-inch wrought-iron breech - 
loading Woolwich gun was employed, the charges 
of powder averaging 43Ebs., and the shot and shell 
about 250fbs. weight. Some steel shot, made by Messrs. 
Firth, of Sheffield, were tried, one of which penetrated 
the target to the depth of five inches, and caused one 

L 3 



180 STOBIES AND SKETCHES 

of the bolts to start. Some flat-headed projectiles 
were then used, but the utmost damage these could do 
was an indent of six inches. Then came the crowning 
trials withPalliser shot and shell, which, I believe, 
are made simply of good cast-metal run into moulds, 
and chilled with streams of water ; a process similar to 
that employed in the manufacture of anvils. [Query. 
What superior powers of resistance would armour-plates 
acquire if they were chilled in the same manner?] 
Most of the chilled shot went through the 8 
inches plate, and buried themselves in the timber. 
But the shells were terrific ; one pierced the target to 
the depth of 12 inches ; another went in 19 inches ; 
while another, after passing clean through the target 
exploded in a mass of timber about twenty feet beyond. 
Thus we see that the invincibility of our armour-plating 
is a thing of the past. If the old supremacy is to be 
renewed, armour-plates must either possess greater 
thickness, a better method of construction, or a quality 
of metal very different to simple malleable iron. The 
great firms engaged in this manufacture are therefore 
now put upon their mettle to invent something which 
shall resist Major Palliser's chilled shot and shell. 

With the Cyclops, as in other leviathan concerns at 
Sheffield, iron is made subsidiary to steel. Twenty 
converting furnaces are here continually going, day and 
night, for the production of cement steel, the greater 
part of which is afterwards made into cast-steel, up- 
wards of 400 melting furnaces being employed for 
this purpose. Eight hundred tons of Bessemer steel 
can now be produced at the Cyclops works weekly. 

Bessemer steel promises to work a revolution in the 
trade ; it can be created in such a short time, at com- 
paratively little cost. A hundred tons of blast steel 
can now easily be made by a single firm in one day. 
But it costs a great deal, both in time [and money, to 
produce a hundred tons of steel by the old process ; 
first, in the manufacture of crude iron into fmalleable 
bars ; secondly, in the conversion of these bars into 
blister steel ; while, thirdly, it will require upwards of 
two thousand crucibles, with all their accompaniments of 
workmen and coke fuel, before the estimated amount 
of cast'Bteel can be delivered in ingots. No wonder 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 181 

that the prices of best blister and cast-steel should 
range from £25 to £50 per ton. It may not be pos- 
sible ever to produce by the Bessemer process a quality 
equal to the best cast-steel ; so that for tools, 
cutlery, and any small articles requiring either a 
sharp edge or a high degree of polish, the latter will 
still secure a demand. It is in the heavy trade, in depart- 
ments once exclusively confined to malleable iron, that 
the advantages of Bessemer steel are most apparent. 
Take, for instance, the single article of locomotive 
rails, a trade in which there is a large return but a 
keen competition. Iron is cheap now, having fallen in 
price more than one-fourth during the last few months. 
I hear that some large contracts have been taken for 
rails under £7 perton ; but since steel tyres for locomotive 
engines have come largely into use, these malleable iron 
rails do not last long. It used to be that manufacturers 
would guarantee their rails for five or seven years ; but 
since the traffic has so largely increased, and steel tyres 
make such havoc with the lines, no one can be found 
to undertake similar contracts. There is one eminent 
firm near Sheffield which has suffered to a considerable 
extent in honourably fulfilling such engagements. But 
the time is not far distant when all the more important 
lines will be renewed with steel rails, for while those 
of Bessemer steel cost scarcely a third more than the 
price of malleable iron, they last fully six times as long ; 
so that the saving is apparent. 

Bessamer-steel, produced at the Cyclops Works, is 
chiefly made into rails, both here and at the company's 
new concern at Penistone. Despite the cost, however, 
cast-steel is still frequently used in masses for cannon, 
shot, and shell, railway tyres, and various heavy forg- 
ings for engineers, 

At these works there are two fine mills for the pro- 
duction of tyres alone, some of which range up to 12ft. 
in diameter. There is also another mill, running night 
and day, for the rolling of steel ship-plates. 

The manufacture of locomotive, carriage, and waggon 
springs has, during the last ten years, been very exten- 
sive, and most profitable. About 120 tons of such 
springs are made here every week. I was much in- 
terested in the various processes :— to see how the steel 



182 STOBIES AND SKETCHES 

is rolled into bars of the required breadth and thickness ; 
then cut into lengths, as if the bars were card-board ; 
to witness how these separate graduating lengths are 
bent by hand into a curved form ; how easily the holes 
are punched, and the combined spring is studded ; what 
care is exercised afterwards in the hardening or temper- 
ing, and how, finally, each spring is tested by hydraulic 
machinery. Although some of these springs are made 
strong enough to carry 20 tons weight, they can never 
be put to a severer test than what is employed at these 
works, being frequently pressed quite straight ; still, no 
sooner is the weight removed, than the elastic thing 
regains its original curved position, as a good spring 
ought. 

Buffers, with conical and volute springs, form another 
important branch of manufacture. 

The making of files is also very extensively carried on 
here ; more than a thousand dozens being turned out 
weekly. 

Several times during our survey, I noticed that the 
foremen of various departments drew the attention of 
my guide to the quality of certain bits of broken metal. 
There are good reasons for thinking that officials at the 
Cyclops Works are practical metallurgists, relying for 
success upon the quality of their iron and steel. To 
this end scrupulous care is shown in examining and 
testing every production of importance. I remember 
that in the Exhibition of 1862, a machine was supplied 
by Charles Cammell and Co. for testing the strength of 
metals, and that it excited considerable interest. It 
appears, as a general rule, that malleable iron has a 
tensile strength three times that of cast metal ; and 
cast steel three times that of malleable iron. Good 
Bessamer steel is capable of bearing a tensile strain of 
150,000 lbs. to the square inch. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 183 



STEEL BELLS. 



If my object was to compile a Directory of the Steel 
Trade, it would be necessary to particularise twenty 
firms or more, each endeavouring to supply the market 
with productions a little better or a little cheaper than 
the rest. A mere glance at such extensive works as 
those conducted by the Jessops, Butchers, Burys, Firths 
(T. Firth and Sons and M. Firth and Sons), Eadons, 
Peaces, Hall, Spear and Jackson, Wilson and Co, , Syb- 
ray and Co., Cockers, &c. would occupy considerable time. 
In giving a modest epitome of the steel trade in Shef- 
field, therefore, I can only dwell upon three or four 
firms, which may be a little more remarkable than the 
rest, either for the character or extent of their produc- 
tions. 

Naylor, Vickers, and Co., are an old Sheffield firm — 
perhaps the oldest of any note connected with the steel 
trade. They have works at Millsands and Wadsley- 
bridge, which are now being supplemented by enormous 
constructions adjoining the Midland railway at Bright- 
side. The latter cover something like twenty acres of 
ground. In the production of blister and cast-steel, 
N. V. and Co. have to compete with many eminent 
local firms ; but in one branch of trade they have a 
monopoly, viz., in the casting of steel bells. Bells ! 
A capital book might be written on the history and in- 
fluences of bells. Who first found out that a hollow 
metal vessel would make a musical noise when it was 
struck ? Some man of the olden time. No doubt there 
were pots in existence before bells were ever thought 
of ; and the fact that such pots did vibrate in sound 
might suggest the idea of making vessels for the pur- 
poses of sound alone. Bells are as old as — the crea- 
tion ? Not quite, but still very ancient . In Exodus 
(chap, xxviii.) are instructions for making Aaron's 
priestly garments. ' ' And beneath upon the hem ol it 
thou shalt make pomegranates of blue, and of purple, and 
of scarlet, round about the hem thereof ; and bells of 
gold between them round about. A golden bell and a 



184 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

pomegranate, a golden bell and a pomegranate, upon 
the hem of the robe round about." Again, Zacharia 
implies that war-horses were adorned with bells when 
he was alive, for the Prophet says:— "In that day- 
there shall be upon the bells of horses, ' Holiness to the 
Lord.'" In the ancient Greek camp, at the dead of 
night, a patrol went to, the various sentries, and tinkled 
a little bell. If the sentinel was awake he answered ; 
but if he was asleep and did not answer, then woe be- 
tide the sentinel ! I do not think this was a very judi- 
cious plan, particularly when a foreign invasion or civil 
war was threatened ; and it strikes me, just at the mo- 
ment (although I cannot remember the epoch), that an 
ancient city was captured, or nearly won, by some in- 
surgents seizing the opportunity after the bell signals 
had gone their round. A Greek Codonophorus used to 
walk in front of the corpse at a funeral procession, ring- 
ing his bell to advertise its approach, so that the flamen 
dialis might keep out of the way, and not be polluted 
by the sight. The Romans also made very great use of 
the bell. If that ancient race was not daily reminded, 
as we are now, when it is time to get up, or go to our 
work, or leave for dinner, still there were periodical 
times for them when the bell was rung ; thus, for in- 
stance, the bath hour was daily announced by the sound 
of a bell. The Romans adopted the custom of placing 
bells round the necks of cattle and sheep to assist them 
in recovering the strayed. 

It is commonly thought that Paulinus, Bishop of 
Nola, in Campania, was the first to introduce bells in 
churches. This is evidently a mistake. To Paulinus 
may belong the merit of first hanging them on a kind of 
balance ; but bells were used in religious worship before 
the fourth century. Bede mentions their existence in 
England during the seventh century. Ingulphus tells 
us that Turketul, Abbot of Croyland, gave a large bell 
christened Guthlac to the abbey aforesaid. This Tur- 
ketul died a.d. 870. His successor, Egelric, gave a 
whole peal of six bells, which were designation by res- 
pectable Christian names, and not by such vulgar apel- 
lations as " single bob," "grandsire bob," and "bob 
major." In the reign of Egbert it was commanded that 
every priest should sound the bells before going through 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 185 

"the sacred offices to God." About the close of the 
ninth century Kinseus, Archbishop of York, gave two 
great bells to the church of St. John at Beverley. By 
the Council of Enham (1011), it was required that a 
certain proportion of the "mulcts for sins'' should be 
expended upon church bells. In the ancient Eastern 
churches bells were used at a very early period ; but 
when the Turks took Constantinople the practice of 
ringing was discontinued, lest such sounds should dis- 
turb the repose of souls, which they deemed to be con- 
tinually hovering in the air. 

The Cprpew Bell was introduced in England by 
William the First. Some say that it was intended to 
remind the conquered people of their serfdom ; but to 
this rendering we may justly take exception, since the 
custom prevailed in almost every country of Europe at 
the same period. The people were thus reminded to 
put out all their fires and go to bed, like honest, well 
affected citizens. 

Then there is the Passing or Soul Bell. Bede at- 
tributes the origin of this custom to the following cir- 
cumstance. When the Abbess of St. Hilda lay dying, 
a sister in a neighbouring monastery thought she heard 
the solemn tolling of a distant bell. She concluded 
that the Abbess was dying, and rousing all the sisters 
they repaired to the chapel, and sang a requiem for the 
soul of their mother. An old writer of the 12th cen- 
tury says : — " When any one is dying bells must be 
tolled, that the people may put up their prayers, twice 
for a woman, and thrice for a man ; if for a priest, 
as many times as he had orders ; and at the conclusion 
a peal on all the bells, to distinguish the quality of 
the person for whom the people are to put up their 
prayers." But the passing bell had formerly another 
purpose, besides advertising for sympathetic prayer. It 
is well known that evil spirits cannot bear the sound of 
bells ; therefore those malignant beings, who hover 
round a dying bed, eager to clutch the departing soul, 
are frightened away, or, at least, frightened beyond 
the limits of sound ; so that an active spirit may elude 
pursuit. It was on this principle, we infer, that a 
higher fee was demanded for tolling the big bell ; be- 
cause the sound, being deeper, would be more effica- 



186 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

cious. Wynkin de Worde, in his Golden Legend ob- 
serves : — " It is said, the evill spirytes that ben in the 
regyon of theyre, doubte moche when they here the 
belles rongen : and this is the cause why the belles ben 
rongen whan it thondreth, and whan grete tempests and 
outrages of wether happen, to the ende that the feinds 
and wycked spirytes shold be abashed and flee, and cease 
of the moving of tempeste." 

There did also exist what we may call the Warning 
Bell at sea. Long before light-houses were thought of, 
mariners were warned of dangerous rocks by the sound 
of this bell, which, fastened to a buoy, swung back- 
wards and forwards by the swell of the waves. 
" The Abbot of Aberbrothok, 
Had placed that bell on the Inchcape rock ; 
On a buoy in the storm it floated and swung, 
And over the waves its warning rung. 
When the rock was hid by the surge's swell, 
The mariners heard the warning bell ; 
And then they knew the perilous rock, 
And blest the Abbot of Aberbrothok."* 
The ancient monasteries were replete with bells which 
were used in various offices, but chiefly sacred. 

The Roman pontifical has a ritual of ceremonies con- 
cerning bells ; how they are to be baptized, anointed, 
blessed, exorcised and so forth ; since a great deal 
of power and virtue were supposed to exist in bells. 
Even in this hard, utilitarian age, do they not sound to 
us, at times, like sentient messengers, awakening peace- 
ful thoughts, and sacred memories ? 

" Those evening bells ! those evening bells ! 

How many a tale their music tells, 

Of youth, and home, and that sweet time." &c. 

* Southey, at the commencement of this ballad, quotes the 
following tradition from an old writer : — " By east the Isle of 
May, twelve miles from all land in the German seas, lyes a great 
hidden rock, called Inchcape, very dangerous for navigators, 
because it is overflowed everie tide. It is reported in old 
times,j upon the said rock there was a bell, fixed upon a tree 
or timber, which rang continually, being moved b} r the sea, 
giving notice, to the saylers of the danger. This bell or clocke 
wes put there and maintained by the Abbot of Aberbrothok, 
and being taken down by a sea pirate, a year thereafter he 
perished upon the same roeke, with ship and goodes, in the 
righteous judgement of God." 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 187 

What sweet time ? exclaims some crusty reader, with a 
sneer. Ah ! its many years ago ; but we remember it — 
Don't we, Tetty ? When you and I plighted our troth 
at that simple altar. " Yes, love, we have had cause to 
remember it." But you never once regretted it, did 
you, Tetty ? Tetty says she never did ; yet, to her, it 
seems but a short time since those marriage bells were 
ringing. 

I never met with but one educated person who wished 
that bells might be silenced for ever. His plea was that 
they are vain relics of a popish age ; and now cause 
men to labour on the Sabbath. Poor man! Did he 
never think how many thousands in scattered rural 
districts would sadly miss the old call to worship ? 

Moscow was, and is now, famous for big bells. In 
the tower of St. Ivan's Church there was a bell weigh- 
ing about 128,0001bs. A Czar in the olden time, gave 
one to the Cathedral of Moscow weighing 288,0001bs. ; 
but even this was outdone by a present of the Empress 
Anne to the same edifice, which was the largest bell ever 
known, measuring 19 feet high, 64 feet in circumfer- 
ence, and weighing 432,0001bs. 

The bells of Nankin, in China, were so massive and 
powerful that they brought down the tower. We must 
remember that Chinese temples, however, are not very- 
remarkable for strength. One of the bells is supposed 
to weigh 50,0001bs. 

Weaver says, ' ' In the little sanctuary at Westminster, 
King Edward III. erected a clochier, and placed therein 
three bells for the use of St. Stephen's Chapel ; around 
the bigest of them were cast in the metal these 
words : — 

" King Edward made mee thirtie thousand weight and 

three, 
Take me down and wey mee and more you shall find 
mee." 
But these bells being to be taken down in the reign 
of King Henry VIII., one writes underneath with a 
coale : — 

' But Henry the Eight 
Will bate me of my weight.' " 
The great bell of St Paul's is a little under 12,0001bs, 
in weight, being nine feet in diameter, 



188 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

This nineteenth century has not been remarkable for 
big bells ; the most noteworthy production, with one ex- 
ception, being the great bell of Westminster, with 
which the name of Mr. E. Denison, jun., is so closely 
identified. 

The exception, just mentioned, is a steel bell manu- 
factured by this firm, and shown at the Exhibition of 
1862. It weighs upwards of 9,000lbs. ; and although 
170 crucibles of melted steel had to be poured into the 
mould, the whole time employed in teeming them did 
not exceed a quarter of an hour.* 

The history of English steel bells is worthy of remark, 
because of the influence which these castings have ex- 
erted upon the steel trade of Sheffield. Twenty years 
ago, a German called at the office of Messrs. Nayior, 
Vicers, and Co., with a flaming prospectus, and a patent 
for steel bells. After some further negociations the firm 
purchased this patent, although these shrewd men of 
business were not prepared to endorse all the sanguine 
expectations of the inventor. True, steel might be 
superior to bronze in sustaining violent agitation, or the 
vicissitudes of heat and cold.+ True, steel bells might 
be manufactured one-third lighter, and more than one- 
half cheaper, than those regularly in use ; but still their 
introduction would naturally meet with strong preju- 
dices both from professionals and the general public. 
Now, although Messrs. Nayior, Vicers, and Co. have 
turned out several thousands of steel bells since 1845, 
it was evident to those gentlemen from the first that 
the requirements for this branch of trade must neces- 
sarily be limited ; so that it would never pay to con- 
struct works upon a large scale simply for the manufac- 
ture of steel bells. But (an active mind is ever ready 
to deduce inferences) if it be possible to cast at once a 
bell weighing several cwts., why should not steel castings 
of heavy weight be applied to various engineering and 
mechanical purposes ? One of the partners told me it 
was this idea, and not any sanguine expectations about 
bells, which induced his firm to undertake the patent. 

* I understand that this bell has since been hung- in the 
Italian church of London. 

t Only last week, the great bell at Geneva, called Clemence, 
which was rung on all important occasions, cracked. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 189 

From this circumstance may be dated the introduction 
of heavy steel castings, which the more recent develop- 
ment of railways, improved ordnance, stationary engines 
and marine machinery have consolidated into a gigantic 
branch of trade. 

On applying at the offices in Sheffield, I found that 
the adjoining works at Millsands had been sold by the 
firm to Mr. Charles ; also that the premises at Wadsley 
Bridge, were entirely upon the old-fashioned principle of 
tilting and forging. It appears that Messrs. Naylor, 
Vicers, and Co., are gradually consolidating their trade 
within their new works, as such portions of them are 
completed. So I had to come back again to Brightside, 
and find my way to the Don Works, amidst the ruck of 
of those immense factories. The ground plan of these 
works, as we have before said, extends over something 
like twenty acres ; and, if we may judge of the whole 
by such portions as are completed, there will, perhaps, 
eventually, be nothing more commodious in the trade. 
I was exceedingly struck by the casting-shop. Here are 
288 melting furnaces under one roof, which latter 
covers exactly an area of three-quarters of an acre, with 
only four supports between the exterior walls. In every 
one of these furnaces there are two pots, each of which 
contains 60ft>s. of steel ; and as the pots last for three 
heats, the 576 crucibles will melt about 10 tons of steel 
per day. I understand that the entire production of 
the firm amounts to about 40 tons daily. But into what 
articles is this immense quantity of steel manufactured ? 
Principally into railway tyres, points and crossings, 
hydraulic presses, cylinders, toothed wheels, and bells. 
When Mr. T. E. Vicers first conducted me into that 
magnificent casting-shop, about thirty men were busily 
engaged lifting out the crucibles from those fiery furnaces 
beneath the floor, and pouring the brilliant streams into 
a bell-mould. To an ordinary workman the entire pro- 
cess would be simply a matter of dexterity and precision ; 
to myself the succession of fiery balls, and dazzling 
streams, and bright corruscations, were intensely beau- 
tiful. The railway tyres are each made from a solid 
ingot of cast steel, which is first hammered, and then 
pierced with a large steel punch. It is afterwards ex- 
tended to its required size in a tyre-mill, which forms 
.he flanche at the same time. 



190 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

I was then permitted to get a glance — and only a 
glance — into a spacious compartment where the fire-clay 
is mixed and kneaded by machinery ; where an immense 
hydraulic press was busy at work, exhuding from a 
horizontal funnel a circular column of soft clay, about 
seven inches in diameter. I was left to infer that this 
column of compressed clay had merely to be cut into the 
required lengths, and each afterwards hollowed into the 
size and form of a crucible. With the aid of such ma- 
chinery, two or three men are able to manufacture 800 
melting-pots a day. 

The Don Works are built on land leased of Earl Fitz- 
william ; but the proprietors have the option, at any 
future time, of making the property freehold by paying 
a stipulated sum of money. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 191 



YORKSHIRE ENGINE COMPANY (LIMITED). 



Let us pass on to a new and important branch of 
trade in this Metropolis of Steel . At some future time 
I should like to take the reader into a few of those 
colossal works where all kinds of cutlery, edge-tools, 
saws, and files are manufactured * — those endless 
manipulations of steel, which may be termed the veins 
and arteries of this great Sheffield trade. But we have 
not quite done with the heavy branches, or sinews of 
the neighbourhood. What would Sheffield, or, indeed, 
Great Britain, or, indeed, the world have been without 
steam power ? Not half developed. 

The Motive Power op Steam Applied to Ma- 
chinery. — This shall form the text for a few introduc- 
tory remarks. If the people in Great Britain had never 
drank tea, it is certain that they would never have 
required a tea-kettle. If the tea-kettle had never been 
known, we should not have had the steam-engine ; at 
least this opinion has been publicly stated. Our fore- 
elders saw with what force steam came pouring out of 
the tea-kettle — singing, spluttering, lifting up the lid — 
and they concluded that this power might be utilised. 
"But," as Peter Pinkie says, " Drat those antients, for 
stealing our best thoughts !" More than a century before 
Christ, there lived in Alexandria a physician called 
Hero. This Greek doctor wrote a treatise, showing 
how certain magical tricks of the priests were effected by 
the expansive power of steam. Hero constructed an 
JEolipile, which was simply a hollow ball, made to 
revolve on its pivot by the force of steam. But this 
treatise of Hero, exhumed from some musty library in 
the sixteenth century, set mechanicians in Europe 
thinking and inventing. The result was that many 
ingenious toys were made, and propelled by jets of 
steam. 

During the last civil wars, there was a Marquis of 
Worcester, who, when not engaged in the royalist 

* We might, also, see something worthy of note in stoves 
grate and fender manufactories— such, for instance, as the 
Green-lane, Roscoe-place, and Chantry Works. 



192 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

struggle, devoted his time to mechanics. Although he 
spent many thousand pounds sterling in experiments, 
yet, so far as we know, he left no complete machine, or 
even model behind him . But he gave to the world a 
noteworthy book, called the " Century of Inventions, 5 ' 
in which he speaks about constructing a vessel " to work 
against wind and tide, yea, both, without the aid of 
man or beast." He advertises in very extravagant lan- 
guage his "Water Commanding Engine," but gives us 
little or no information respecting its construction. He 
also mentions an engine, which, if half as curious as his 
description, would be a most wonderful thing. Yet the 
author says, " And therefore I call this a semi- omnipo- 
tent engine, and do intend that a model thereof shall be 
buried with me." 

Papin, a French physician, tried to grapple with the 
difficulty. He said, and rightly, that a proper steam 
engine must have a cylinder, fitted with a movable 
piston. He made several engines, and could raise the 
piston by letting in the steam underneath, but does not 
appear to have had the slightest idea of condensing the 
steam afterwards. Papin's method was to carry the 
motive power by pipes into a second cylinder ; but his 
inventions never came to any practical result. 

Thos. Savary, a Devonshire man, employed steam 
for the purpose of raising water. His apparatus con- 
sisted of an upright boiler, set with fire-grates and flues, 
to generate steam. Communicating with this boiler 
was an egg-shaped vessel, attached to which latter vvas 
the sucker-pipe descending into the well, a number of 
branch-pipes with clacks or taps, and the ejection-pipe, 
by which the water was thrown out. The working of 
this apparatus may be explained in a few words. Steam 
is let into the reservoir ; a stream of water is afterwards 
poured on the surface, and forms a vacuum within the 
vessel by the condensation of this steam ; up rushes the 
water, and fills the cylinder, which is prevented from 
descending by the lower clack. Steam is again intro- 
duced into the bottom of the receiver, underneath the 
water, and the latter is thrown out by the surface shaft. 
"All this," you say, "is very simple, if not very ef- 
fective." True, my friend, and far more important 
discoveries have appeared very simple after they were 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 192 

applied. Pumping engines were the great desideratum 
of that period. Our miners had got all the eligible top 
seams of coal and surface veins of ore, but they could 
not get lower on account of the water ; the mines must 
be pumped out. Savary's steam pump was not adapted 
to lift great volntnes of water from a great depth, be- 
cause the pressure of steam and water often blew up 
the whole magazine. 

Newcomen advanced the steam-engine a very impor- 
tant step. His vertical cylinder had a piston made air- 
tight by leather or hempen packing, and to which was 
attached a working beam or lever, and also the rod of a 
pump. Steam from a "boiler" was introduced, raising 
the piston, which latter would have remained elevated 
so long as the power of steam continued equal. But 
the steam must be condensed or evaporated. To this 
end cold water was poured on the outside of the cylinder, 
creating a vacuum within ; whereby the piston descended. 
Still this process of condensation was necessarily a slow 
one ; and so to save the labour of pouring on streams 
of water, a cold water tank was made to surround the 
cylinder. But this plan affected no improvement ; the 
result rather grew worse, because, firstly, the motive 
power was lessened ; and, secondly, the surrounding 
water soon became heated ; consequently incapable of 
condensing steam. Many of our great discoveries arise 
out of accidents. It happened while some cold water 
was being splashed about that a stream went through a 
little hole into the cylinder, instantly condensing the 
steam, so that the piston descended with an unusual 
rapidity. This was the very result to be desired. It 
had been brought to pass ; but how ? A careful ex- 
amination discovered the crack in the piston, and set 
Newcomen thinking. His next object was to introduce 
an injection pipe into the cylinder, so that when the 
piston was elevated, and the tap turned, a jet of cold 
water quickly condensed the steam, and the piston des- 
cended. Thus Newcomen's was rightly designated "the 
atmospheric engine," because the working stroke is 
effected by the descent of the piston, which is driven 
down (after the steam is partially condensed) by 
atmospheric preasure. Originally the taps and valves 
of the engine had to be turned by hand, and a great 

M 



194 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

deal of care was required in working them ; otherwise 
the piston would either be pulled out of the cylinder, or 
battered to pieces at the bottom. A youth named 
Potter, who had charge of these taps, got tired of the 
monotonous employment ; and, possessing some in- 
genuity, he attached strings &c. to the working beam 
or lever so that the operations might be self- 
acting. This idea was seized and embodied in a 
permanent form by Beightox. These inventions, im- 
perfect as they seem to us now, were paving the way 
for what we may term the true steam engine. 

James Watt was a mathematical instrument maker 
in Glasgow, and had to repair a small model of the 
Newcomen engine. He saw at once that the injection 
of cold water into the cylinder was not a perfect im- 
provement, because there was still an enormous waste 
of steam ; and Watt came to the conclusion that the 
cylinder should never become of a less heat than the 
steam itself, supplied from the boiler. But by some 
method the steam in the cylinder must be expelled or 
condensed, otherwise the piston would not descend. 
Watt brooded and experimented for many a long month, 
without any satisfactory result. At length, one Sunday, 
as he was taking his meditative walk on Glasgow Green, 
the thought suddenly struck him that if he could raise a 
vacuum in another vessel communicating with the cylin- 
der, the steam would necessarily rush there, and might 
be condensed without neutralising the heat of the cylin- 
der itself. But how ? Two ways suggested themselves ; 
one was to condense by a jet of water, and afterwards 
drain the vessel by a tap underneath ; the other 
plan was to pump out both the condensed steam 
and the air. Many men can see a principle and imagine 
a result without being able practically to accomplish 
what they project. Some men are dreamers and not 
workers. It requires often a life-time of persevering self- 
sacrifice before one can become a hero, even in the 
sphere of mechanics. Watt and his coadjutors had to 
lay the foundation of our mechanical progress and com- 
mercial prosperity. We had great architects, and great 
painters, and great poets before this time ; but no good 
blacksmiths. Newcomen, Watt, Boulton, Murdock, and 
a few others had to originate that skilled fraternity 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE, 195 

which now take the name of "Engineers." "Watt 
laboured under every disadvantage, since he was an- 
ticipating the necessity for constructing those famous 
tools and machines which now abound in our mould- 
shops and forges and turneries. No wonder that weary 
months and even years elapsed before he could get his 
model engine to work with any degree of accuracy. At 
length, after many vicissitudes, he met with friends able 
and willing to aid him ; engines were made to "'fork 
mines," which those constructed on the Newcomen 
principle had given up in despair. Envious detractors 
might pooh and sneer, but practical men could see that 
this was very good. The work had been done, and ac- 
complished at a very moderate expense of fuel. The 
principle of Watt's engine was in many points totally 
different to that of Newcomen's. Watt secured the top 
of his cylinder with an air-tight lid, in the centre of 
which was a neck, called a stuffing-box, through which 
the piston-rod worked. Under these circumstances the 
atmosphere could not act upon the piston to force it 
down ; this would have to be effected by the power of 
steam ; for we must not forget that the piston in its 
descent had to lift the weight, &c. When condensation 
took place in the separate vessel, steam was admitted 
into the cylinder above the piston (all communication 
with the condenser being now closed), forcing it. down- 
ward. The steam was then carried by pipes both into 
the condenser, and underneath the piston. As time 
went on Watt invented the "parallel motion," causing 
as he says, "the piston rod to work up and down 
perpendicularly by only fixing it to a piece of iron upon 
the beam, without chairs or perpendicular guides or 
untoward friction, arch heads, or other pieces of clumsi- 
ness." To regulate the speed of his engines he invented 
the Governor, superseding the old "throttle valve," 
which had to be turned by hand. 

For years the engines of Boulton and Watt were used 
solely for pumping, and very well they worked. But 
the requirements of engine power for emptying mines 
were comparatively limited ; so that it became desirable 
to employ steam engines in place of water wheels, and 
give a rotary motion to work various mills and manu- 
factories. Watt invented the rotative motion. His 

M 3 



196 STORIES AlfD SKETCHES 

attention was directed to the matter by finding one of 
the copper rolling mills in "Wales stopped through the 
draught of summer. One of the first rotary engines 
made by BoultDn and "Watt was fixed at Walker's iron- 
works at Masborough. 

Long before Watt had succeeded in making a sta- 
tionary engine to work, he used to tell his friends that 
they would, some day, travel in a fiery chariot impelled 
by steam. Between 1750 and 1758, Dr. Robison and 
he had often talked the matter over ; but it was not 
until 1784 that Watt protected his steam locomotive by 
a patent. The boiler was a great wooden tub, firmly 
hooped together. The fire-box was placed in this tub, 
surrounded by water. From the piston-rod, a rotary 
motion was effected by the sun-and-planet wheel ; the 
motion of the running wheels being communicated by 
toothed gear. 

Fourteen years before this time, however, Cugnot, a 
Frenchman, constructed a large steam locomotive, which 
was tried in Paris before some very distinguished spec- 
tators. The engine was made to run with great velocity, 
but the driver could not stop it ; it ran hither and 
thither almost without control ; and, finally, disabled 
itself by breaking through a wall. Thus ended in- 
gloriously Cugnot's engine. 

The first English locomotive which could be sub- 
mitted to a trial, was made by William Murdoch ; 
and it is pi'oper to remark that this model engine was 
completed and tested at least two years before the date 
of Watt's patent, he (Murdoch) being at that time a 
workman employed by the firm of Boulton and Watt.* 

* Years before this, Murdoch called at the Soho Works in 
search of employment. His uncouth anpearance, and strong 
Northern dialect, did not predispose Mr. Boulton in his favour ; 
and he received a curt refusal. The man was putting on his 
hat to go, when the master's eye causht siirht of it. The hat 
was peculiar, having no appearance of either wool or fur. The 
great man asked what it was made of ? "Of timmer, sir." " A 
timber hat ' I never before heard of such a thing. Who made 
it?" "I niide it mysel ; having nae siller to spare to buy a 
new ane." " But, my dear fellow, this hat is turned oval, and 
not round." " O, aye, sir; I jist made the bit lathie ffang 
anither gate to suit me." Boulton considered a moment: If 
this man can make a lathe turn an oval hat, he is more than 
an ordinary mechanic. The result was that Murdoch's ser- 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 197 

For some reason, Murdoch concealed bis invention ; and 
•when the model locomotive was complete, he tried it by 
night, in a lane near Redruth. The little "Puffing 
Billy" greatly frightened a worthy clergyman, who 
happened to be passing at the time ; and, truly, at that 
period, nothing could have looked more like devilish en- 
chantment. Watt, although upright, and ever candid, 
was sensitive to innovation within his own particular 
sphere. It is plain, from various letters which passed 
between himself and Boulfcon, that the former gave no 
encouragement to Murdoch's experiment. Perhaps the 
firm was jealous lest, what was regarded as a bauble, 
should divert the attention of their best workman from 
his legitimate employment. Even when it promised to 
become a success the firm at Soho never heartily coun- 
tenanced the invention. 

William Symington, whose name is more intimately 
associated with marine engines, exhibited a model loco- 
motive in 1786. The machinery was fixed behind the 
carriage ; motive power from the piston-rod being com- 
municated to the axle by a rack and pinion. 

It was formerly considered that to every carriage or 
waggon there must be a separate engine ; but as this 
method of propulsion was somewhat precarious, and 
necessarily costly, practical engineers gave to it little 
countenance. It was a novel project, however, and 
people began to talk about running steam carriages upon 
turnpike roads ; although when we hear descriptions of 
what our best roads then were, it seems surprising that 
people should so talk. The roads were bad. A few 
scientific men felt confident that the engine would run 
well if the road was right : the i*oad, therefore, must be 
adapted to the engine. 

Meanwhile, one Walter Hancock ran a steam omni- 
bus between Paddington and the Bank ; and although 
the wheels often sank deep in the ruts, and the ma- 
chinery sometimes got out of order, the journeys were 
continued for several months. 

A Mr. Brunton constructed an engine with two legs ; 

vice was accepted, when, for years, be was regarded as the best 
and most trustworthy artizan at Soho ; until by his inventive 
Ulent and persevering industry. Wru. Murdoch occupied a 
position of eminance amongst mechanical pioneers. 



198 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

that is to say, the carriage was propelled upon wheels 
by the alternate motion of two legs projecting to the 
ground from the hind part of the machine. 

Trevethick:, during the first ten years of this cen- 
tury, brought out several different steam locomotives. 
In comparison with our powerful and beautiful engines, 
these machines of Trevethick and Vivian will appear 
very clumsy and imperfect. Stiil they had in them the 
germs of a true steam locomotive. Here is one on four 
wheels, the two front ones being small guiding wheels ; 
the hind ones large and strong, having to support the 
boiler and machinery. There is one horizontal cylinder, 
with a fly-wheel on the contrary side. To the piston- 
rod is fixed a cross-piece, moving in horizontal guides ; 
from which a fork-shaped connecting-rod gave motion to 
a crank-axle, which had at each end toothed gear, work- 
ing into the nave of the two hind wheels, thus pro- 
pelling the carriage Here is another, 

also mounted upon four wheels. The boiler contains a 
large fire-box, or fire-tube, surrounded with water. 
The cylinder is immersed in the boiler, the bigh-pres- 
sur3 steam being admitted below and above the piston 
by a contrivance known as a four-way-valve, the escape 
steam being carried off by the chimney, thus creating a 
draft. The upper part of the cylinder is slightly elevated 
above the boiler. Attached to the piston-rod is a cross- 
beam, extending the whole diameter of the engine, to 
each end of which is attached a connecting-rod, descend- 
ing to a crank on the outside of each driving-wheel. To 
give strength to the machinery, and steadiness to the 
motion, there are two vertical guides, working parallel 
with the piston. This engine was practicable ; indeed, it 
could draw a train ten tons weight upon smooth rails, 
five miles an hour. But the speed was very irregular, 
because (dispensing with a fly-wheel) the rate of motion 
by the crank was not equal in the entire revolution. 
To remedy this defect two cylinders were employed, so 
that a separate and alternate action should be given to 
each crank. In other words, one piston would be in 
the middle of its stroke when the other was at the end 
of the cylinder. 

At the beginning of this century there were several 
colliery roads or tramways, laid with metal rails ; but 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 199 

these were worked either by horses or stationary engines. 
So recently as 1825, the practicability of steam loco- 
motives had to be established. The formation of rail- 
ways for passenger and general traffic stimulated engin- 
eering skill. It was admitted by all that railways would 
never become a great institution so long as the carriages 
or waggons were pulled by horses. Superior power 
must be obtained by some means : steam must do the 
work. But only a few sanguine individuals had faith 
in steam locomotion. "Fixed engines may act, — sta- 
tionary engines placed about every mile upon the line, 
to draw the trains up with ropes and pullies ; but run- 
ning engines — Pooh ! they can never be depended 
on." So people said. Two commissioners appointed 
by the Manchester and Liverpool Directors to decide 
upon the best means of propelling trains, reported in 
favour of stationary engines : this they did after a care- 
ful examination of locomotives upon the Stockton and 
Darlington Railway. Certainly the results of locomo- 
tion upon this line in 1828 were not encouraging — 
a very light tonnage, and a speed of from five to six miles 
an hour. The system of stationary engines would necessi- 
tate an outlay of £120,000, with a large annual sum 
for working expenses, whether the traffic was great or 
small. It happened, however, that besides the en- 
gineer, two or three promoters of the Manchester and 
Liverpool Railway had strong leanings towards locomo- 
tives. In their opinion, powerful, effective engines 
might be constructed to run on wheels ; and so, to 
stimulate invention, the Directors offered a prize of 
£500 for the best locomotive that should be submitted 
to competition/" 



* The circular issued was as follows : — 

Stipulations and Conditions on which the Directors of the 
Liverpool and Manchester Railway offer a premium of £500 
for the most improved Locomotive Engine. 

1st. The said engine must effectually, consumeits own smoke, 
according to the provisions of the Railway Act, 7th Geo. IV. 

2nd. The engine, if it weighs six tons, must be capable of 
drawing- after it, day by day, on a well-constructed raihvjvy, 
on a level plane, a train of carriages of the gross weight of 
twenty tons, including the tender and water tank, at the rate 
of ten miles per hour, with a pressure of steam in the boiler 
not exceeding 501bs. on the square inch. 

3rd. There must be two safety valves, one of which must be 



200 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

Up to this period the common idea was that power 
and speed must be proportionate to size and weight ; a 
large cylinder, necessitating a corresponding large boiler. 
But if locomotives were ever to become a great success 
this mode must be reversed, since it was impossible 
that any carriage could carry an enormous steam- 
generator. The object now sought was to combine 
greater speed with lighter, or at least, less cumbrous 
machinery. The Stephensons, father and son, knew 
well that power was to be obtained as much by the 
pressure as the volume of steam : so the great con- 
siderations were, first, to make the boiler strong enough, 
and then to give an increased heating surface to the 
same body of water. Geo. Stephenson tried the ex- 
periment of passing a great number of small pipes, 
filled with water through a large firebox ; but this did 

completely out of tht reach or control of the engine-man, and 
neither of which must he fastened down while the engine is 
working. 

4th. The engine and boiler must be supported on springs, 
and rest on six wheels ; and the height from the ground to the 
top of the chimney must not exceed fifteen feet. 

5th. The weight of the machme, with its complement of 
water in the boiler, must, at most, not exceed six tons ; and a 
machine of less weight will be preferred, if it draw after it a 
proportionate weight ; and if the weight of the engine, &c, do 
not exceed five tons, then the gross weight to be drawn need 
not exceed fifteen tons ; and in that proportion for machines 
of still smaller weight ;— provided that the engine, &c, shall 
still be on six wheels, unless the weight (a, above) be reduced 
to four tons and-a-half, or under, in which case the boiler, &c, 
may be placed upon four wheels. And the Company shall be 
at liberty to put the boiler, fire-tube, cylinders, &c, to the 
test of a pressure of water, not exceeding loOlbs. per square 
ineh, without being answerable for auy dimage the machine 
may receive in consequence. 

6th. There must be a mercurial gauge affixed to the maehine, 
with under rod, showing the steam pressure above 45lbs. per 
square inch, and constructed to blow out a pressure of 601bs. 
per Inch. 

7th. The engine to be delivered complete for trial at the 
Liverpool end of the station not later than the first of October 
next. 

8th. The price of the emrine which may be accepted, not to 
exceed £550, delivered on the railway ; and any engine not 
approved to be taken back by the owner. 

N.B — The Railway Companj' will provide the engine tender 
with a supply of water and fuel for the experiment. The dis- 
tance within the rails is four feet eight inches and-a-half. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 201 

not answer, as the tubes soon became furred up. The 
common method of construction was to carry one flue 
through the boiler, into the chimney ; but this did not 
generate steam very rapidly. An improved boiler was 
next made, with two flues or tubes branching off from 
the fire. This was better ; but still fell far short of the 
desired result. In another experiment the flue was 
made to return through the boiler, the chimney being 
attached to the same end as the furnace. In another 
case, two small tubes were made to branch off from the 
main or central flue; and this method was found to 
answer best of all, evaporating the water very rapidly. 
It only required to increase the number of these tubes, 
and the principle of a multitubular boiler was con- 
firmed. The plan of horizontal chimnies, or fire-tubes 
passing through water was not altogether a new idea ; 
since in 1821 we find that Messrs. James had a patent 
for improving boilers by the insertion of fire-tubes. 
But Geo. Stephenson was the first to apply the principle 
with success, where it was most wanted ; namely, in 
generating steam quickly for locomotives. 

Next in importance to tubing the boiler, was George 
Stephenson's method for accelerating the draft. Many 
of the earlier engineers had turned waste steam into en- 
gine chimnies ; thus increasing the velocity of air from 
the fire-aperture. Still the effect of this contrivance 
depends very materially upon the form and position of 
an escape-steam pipe.* George Stephenson simply nar- 
rowed the orifice by which waste steam escaped into the 
chimney, and the force became a perfect blast. 

* This matter brings to mind a circumstance in my own ex- 
perience. Once upon a time, having great ambition for trade 
and no preparatory training, we found occasion to put down a 
new 20-horse horizontal ergine, and two boilers of about 40- 
horse power conjointly. The engine-fitters, either from ignor- 
ance or design, introduced the nozzle of the waste steam-pipe 
only a few inches into the chimney ; so that w hile the emrine 
was working steam blew across the shaft, completely deaden- 
ing the draft. The consequences were serious At first it was 
thought that the flues round the boilers were improperly con- 
structed. And yet it seemed strange that, when the engise 
was not working, the draft from the fires was sufficient to 
generate steam rapidly. After a time one of the engineers 
suggested a remedy ;— an upright length, with an elhow joint, 
was fixed to the cscape-steampipe, and the draft became per- 
fect. 



202 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

The Stepbensous, father and son, were not ouly ac- 
tively engaged as civil engineers, but having established 
considerable works at Newcastle, they were in a position 
to compete with any engine manufacturer in the 
country. The contest was for the supremacy of rail- 
way locomotives over stationary engines ; and every one 
knew that the Stephensons would use their utmost skill 
to make steam travelling machines successful. To such 
a firm the amount of premium was as nothing to the 
trade which would follow, supposing success were to 
crown their efforts. Robert Stephenson wrote to a 
friend— "I will ficht for them (locomotives) to the last. 
They are worthy of a contest." George Stephenson^ 
wrote to his son Robert — "You must calculate that* 
this engine will be for all the engineers in the king- 
dom — nay, indeed, in the world to look at." After 
numerous failures the Rocket was completed. The 
engine was placed on four wheels, the two driving 
wheels being proportionately large and strong. It 
had two cylinders, fixed diagonally along the sides of 
the boiler. The fire-bos was double, with an aperture 
of three inches between each shell, which space was 
filled with water. From this furnace twenty-four cop- 
per tubes extended through the boiler to the escape- 
pipe, which latter had the orifice very narrow at its ex- 
tremity, so that the steam escaped in gusts, thus caus- 
ing a powerful draught by what is called the " blast." 

In October, 1S29, the great race of locomotives was 
held, where the Rocket met with two not unworthy 
competitors. The Novelty, made by Braithwaite and 
Erichson, of London, was a very light engine, the draft 
from the fire-box being accellerated by a fan. The Sans 
Pareil, made by Hack worth, of Darlington, had two 
cylinders connected with and working the same axle. 
Many thousands of spectators collected at Rainhill, about 
ten miles from Liverpool, to witness the contest ; and 
as each engine was to travel 40 times, backwards and 
forwards, over a plane of one mile and a half, the com- 
petitors were almost constantly in sight It happened 
that both the Novelty and S:ms Paieil broke down 
during the trial, although the latter ran for some time 
at an average speed of 14 miles per hour. The Rocket 
travelled the entire distauce without any casualty, dra?. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 203 

ging a load of 17 tons at a maximum speed of nearly 
30 miles an hour : she was consequently awarded the 
premium. This engine, until very lately, might be seen 
at work on the Killingworth Colliery railway, and a 
very clumsy machine it looked, with its boiler of thick, 
irregular plates, like a number of huge excrescences. 

Soon after this famous contest at Rainbill, when 
orders for locomotive engines came pouring in, the firm 
of Robt. Stephenson and Co. introduced various minor 
improvements; such, for instance, as placing the cylin- 
ders within a box, in a horizontal position under the 
boiler, since in their former inclined position much 
heat was lost by irradiation. The boiler, which for- 
merly was exposed to the atmosphere, was lined with 
felt, surrounded with a smooth wooden skin. As the 
demand arose for larger engines, another pair of wheels 
was added to the carriage, and the heating tubes in- 
creased from 30 to upwards of 200 ; in some cases even 
500 square feet of tubing was brought into communica- 
tion with the surrounding water. 

When steam locomotives became a success, the pro- 
gress of railways was secured. 

But if the Rocket had not been successful at Rain- 
hill ; if there had been no locomotive in the contest 
capable of drawing twenty tons weight at a speed of ten 
miles an hour, what then would have been the conse- 
quences in respect to railways ? Probably the Liverpool 
and Manchester Directors would have introduced sta- 
tionary engines. Probably this step would have re- 
tarded instead of accelerated the introduction of new 
lines ; since it appears to us now that railway progress 
is a necessary consequence of successful locomotion. 
Still, whenever any great purpose takes firm hold of the 
public mind, whether it be a principle in politics or 
mechanics, the true embodiment is sure to follow. 

Now that the motive power was established, two or 
three chief towns in England began to see the import- 
ance of railway communication. Robert Stephenson 
wrote thus to a friend (Dec. 17th, 1829) : — " The trials 
at Rainhill of the locomotives seem to have set people 
railway mad. . . . We are getting rapidly 
on with four locomotive engines for Liverpool, which I 
am confident will exceed the Rocket in power." But 



204 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

although the two great towns of Lancashire were united 
by an iron road over Chat-moss, and many thousands of 
people rushed to see the opening of the line, when Hus- 
kinson was killed, still nineteen-twentieths of the Eng- 
lish people hated railways. At that period railway 
promoters had a battle to fight ; since it was not possible 
that the great English frame, social and commercial, 
could be reorganized without a struggle. A new road 
haa first to be made through old ideas, and antique pre- 
judices, and established private interests. This was the 
hardest delving. Many of us can remember what riots 
occurred when railways were surveyed, and what a 
fierce contest went on in parliamentary committees. 
Take, for example, the Londou and Birmingham Rail- 
way, which may be regarded as our first great trunk line. 
The length is 112 miles, and the Bill in Parliament 
(having been once renewed) cost £73,000 before it 
received the Royal Assent.* And then, in the infancy 
of railway engineering, this portentious railway had to 
be constructed. Instead of being let to a single firm, 
as is the case with more recent undertakings, there 
were originally thirty separate contracts, eight of which 
returned to the Company unfinished ; having, in most 
cases finished the contractors. The memory of those 
familiar with the subject will recur to such works as 
the Primrose hill and Kilsby tunnels, the Blisworth 
cutting, the Wolverton embankment, &c. The Prim- 
rose-hill tunnel is 1,250 yards long, passing through 
moist London Clay. At first the bricks were laid with 
mortar-, which latter was soon filtered out of the joints ; 
and the arch pressed inwards. Ultimately bricks had 
to be laid in Roman cement. This undertaking cost 
£160,000 more than the first estimate, the entire sum 
expended being £280,000. At the Kilsby tunnel more 
than 1,200 men were employed. After a while they 
came upon "drifts" or "throws," which soon deluged 
the shaft with water. Wooden tubing was then driven 

* The Great Western obtained their Act at a cost of £90,000* 
But the greatest parliamentary expenses of which we have 
any note, with perhans one exception, were incurred by the 
London and Brighton Company, there being no less than four 
competing schemes. The committee sat for about fifty days, 
in two sessions of Parliament, during which time the costs ex- 
ceeded £1,000 per day. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 205 

into the quick-sand to collect the water ; thirteen steam 
engines were employed in pumping, and for more than 
nine months, two thousand gallons of water per minute 
were drawn from this terrible range of hills. When the 
sand was dry enough to let the arch be driven, brick- 
work three feet in thickness had to be laid in cement. 
The tunnel, which is little more than one mile and a 
quarter long, cost no less than £320,000. At the 
Blisworth cutting (about sixty feet deep), more than a 
million cubic feet of earth had to be excavated . The 
upper portion is rock, with an under strata of soft ma- 
terial : this great sandstone seam had to be suppoited 
by a solid wall of masonry. Unlooked for difficulties 
presented themselves also at the Wolverton embank- 
ment, partly from serious "slips," but principally from 
the remarkable character of the material. The bank 
was composed partly of alum and sulpburet of iron, 
which took fire : it presented a most singular, and, to 
the contractors, an alarming appearance. Above 
12,000 hands were employed in constructing the Lon- 
don and Birmingham Railway, and it was computed 
that sixteen million cubic yards of material were removed, 
which debris would form a belt round the globe at the 
equator, one foot high by three feet wide. This was 
Robert Stephenson's first great lesson in engineering. 
The reader says — " Yes ; and it would also teach rail- 
way promoters a salutary lesson : there would be few 
other gigantic projects floated at that period." You are 
quite wrong, sir. The London and Birmingham line 
was commenced in 1834 and finished in 1838. During 
the first two years of construction, thirteen new railway 
Acts were obtained. In the next two years (1836 and 
1837) no less than 44 Railway Bills received the Royal 
Assent; while in 1838 and two following years only 
five such schemes were launched. But it was not very 
long before the public began to see the advantages of 
railway communication, as several of the lines already 
constructed began to pay dividends varying from ten to 
fifteen per cent. Then came the first great railway 
mania, affecting all classes of the community.* In the 

t On looking through my Diary for the period in question* 
I find the following crude remarks upon some very significant 
facts :— 

October, 1845.— The railway mania has increased to a fearful 



206 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

three years, 1844 to 1846 inclusive, Parliament passed 
440 railway bills, the construction of which would 
entail an expenditure of £180,000,000. 

pitch, and share jobbing is the most prominent feature of the 
day. JV'o sooner is a new project made known— no matter 
how impracticable, so that it bears the name of railwa}- — than 
applications for shares pour in by thousands ; and the allot- 
ment commences. At the head of every fresh scheme is a 
numerous Provisional Committee : the insatiable demands of 
these men, and their friends, monopolize three-fourths of the 
shares, v\ hich latter they soon begin to dole out to the greedy 
public at a considerable premium ; for every new scheme has 
been at a premium when the scrip was delivered. So exten- 
sively is railway jobbing carried on that thousands of the low- 
est characters and persons notoriously not worth five pounds, 
have amassed considerable sums. If these men, or women, 
can make friends with one of the railway projectors, or employ 
any species of fraud to eet shares allotted they are sure of 
selling them immediately at a premium ; indeed, thousands 
of shares are sold before any deposit has been paid upon them. 
Five-sixths of those who now hold shares never dream of the 
expense of making the lines ; all they intend is to hold scrip 
until the most favourable opportunity occurs to sell at a profit. 
But if the Bills are passed somebody must find money. And 
if they are not passed, the la t holder of the scrip must lose 
his ten per cent. Up to the 7th of October, there were regis- 
tered for the consideration of next parliamentary sessions no 
less than 399 new schemes, for which a deposit of £28,994,074 
has been paid, or is to be paid ; while to construct the lines no 
less a sum than £329,290,000 would be required. Moreover, 
new schemes by six, eight, and even ten in a week are still 
regularly coming out. Prudent men when they look upon 
these facts, and the state of the public mind, think that an 
awful crisis will come soon. 

February 2nd, 1846.— On a motion for a select committee to 
facilitate the ma«s of railway business, the following facts were 
elicited : — In 1844, forty -eight railway bills received the sanc- 
tion of the legislature, requiring a capital of £14,700,000. In 
1845, 187 bills were passed ; capital, £50,000,000. This year 
the plans of railways deposited with the Board of Trade 
amount to 815, involving a construction of 20,687 miles of new 
rail, and an expenditure of £350,000,000. People may well 
ask where the money is to come from, since a tithe of this 
amount abstracted from its legitimate source would be seri- 
ously felt. The fearful effects of such a mania are now begin- 
ning to develope themselves. Thousands of honest yet de- 
luded men are ruined. Suicides are daily occurring of people 
who have lo.°t more than they could call their own, who shrink 
from facing their creditors, and the sight of their families re- 
duced to ruin. But there is another class of persons whose 
sense of guilt I would not have upon my conscience for all 
their dishonest gains. Such deeds of imposture have been dis- 
closed as have astonished the world. Truly may we be re- 
garded as a gullible nation. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 207 

But without dwelling upon intermediate periods, let 
us look at the sum total of railway enterprise. There 
are in the United Kingdom alone 13,000 miles of rail- 
way opened. In England and Wales there is one mile 
of railway to every 6,| miles of land, the average cost of 
which is about £39,000 per mile ; the entire sum ex- 
pended upon British railways amounting to about 
£455,000,000. Railways have thus created a trading 
interest which is unparalleled in history. You doubt 
the assertion. You point to the cotton trade in illustra- 
tion of magnitude. Well, the cotton trade of England 
is very great. But could all the cotton mills in this 
country pay half the National Debt ? Do the cotton 
lords expend as much yearly in wages or for repairs as 
the railway companies of England ? The traffic for 
1865 (since which period there have been no Govern- 
ment returns) was as follows :— Passengers, 251,862,715 ; 
live stock, above 14,600,000 ; minerals, about 774 mil * 
lions, and general merchandise above 36 million tons ; 
the gross receipts from all sources exceeding 35^ millions 
sterling.* But for the existence of railways England 
would never have had such a traffic. Supposing, how- 
ever, all this was conveyed by the old systems, upon 
canals and turnpike roads, the cost would have ex- 
ceeded £100,000,000. The above magnificent re- 
turns are the result, principally, of successful steam 
locomotion, the maintenance of which motive power 
costs annually something like four-and-a-half millions 
sterling. 

* Probably we bave now reached a point when railway 
facilities have got to the extent of national requirements. Un- 
less good reason can be shown to the contrary, it is scarcely 
likely that any new trunk line will be constructed for the next 
20 years at least. This little island surface is too valuable, 
and the railway capital at stake is too immense, to permit 
much longer this ruinous competition. The interests of the 
community will be best sought in utilising rather than extend- 
ing our jrigantic railway constructions. The railway interest 
of Great Britain is now under a cloud. Railways, like all 
other trading interests are liable to vicissitudes from dishonest 
or reckless management. But that they will ultimately be- 
come the richest source of national revenue, no one who has 
carefully considered the subject can dispute. F^r the present 
hour dividends are the main consideration ; and this is the rea- 
son why even good railway property, which will eventually 
prove a fortune to the holders, is sacrificed by the fluctuations 
of dishonest jobbery. 



208 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

For several years past the leading railways of this 
country have had great difficulty in getting a supply of 
locomotives for their increasing trade. True, Leeds has 
long been noted for the production of such engines ; 
still, taking Yorkshire as a whole, while railway traffic 
continued eminent in development, the facilities for 
producing locomotive power have not increased in pro- 
portion. There was room for a large Yorkshire En- 
gine Company. About two years ago, when the pro- 
ject was first started, everybody said it would be a suc- 
cess ; partly because the company was under the aus- 
pices of a few enterprising, practical engineers, but 
principally because this was the right trade for the 
times. Other requirements for the permanent way and 
rolling stock were better supplied ; rail mills, waggon 
shops, wheel, axle, and tyre manufactories had been 
largely on the increase ; but the patience, skill, and 
capital necessary to complete locomotive engines had 
kept this branch of trade within a narrow compass. 

Having received a letter of introduction from the 
principal promoter of the company, I met with Mr. 
Alfred Sacre, the General Manager, together with Mr. 
Stephens, who gave me every information nececessary to 
describe their establishment. The Meadow Hall Works 
(Why not call them Yorkshire Engine Works?) are 
situated about a mile from the Brightside Station, and, 
with convenient sidings, form a junction with the Mid- 
land and South Yorkshire Railways. The site appears 
to be r ighly advantageous, since it nearly adjoins those 
leviathan Iron and Steel Works, which we have before 
noticed ; moreover, plenty of stone can be obtained 
here suitable as beds for machinery ; and there is coal 
within a reasonable distance. The works were com- 
menced about fourteen months ago, and are far. from 
being in a state of completion ; still the main building 
is sufficiently advanced to give one some idea of the 
extent and facilities of the place. It may be that, 
five thousand years hence, the new Kingdom of Anglo 
Superb will not care to know the exact dimensions of 
these engine works. Then why perpetuate the statis- 
tics? Because, philosophically speaking, the origin and 
progress of our national trade is identified with so many 
yards of surface ground, and so many roods of brick- 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 209 

work. Certainly, for the present moment, one likes 
to know how big such places are ; also, what sort and 
power of machinery is there animated by the intelligent 
will of man. 

And so, gentle reader, if you will honour us with 
your company, and not look on with a silly inanity, we 
will follow Mr. Hampson through the works. No doubt 
where land is cheap it is better to have all workshops 
on the ground-floor : the machines can then work so 
much more steadily. Here the main building is 830 
feet long, by 130 feet wide — an enormous shed lighted 
from the roof, and divided into foundry, turnery, and 
many other departments by partition walls. On looking 
through the spacious works, now partly supplied with 
machinery, our first impression is that the cost of plant, 
&c. , will be something considerable. Upon inquiry we 
learn that the total estimated cost is about £250,000 ; 
and that very soon, the company will be in a position 
to turn out 150 locomotives per annum. 

A superficial observer, like you and I, reader, can 
admire] such beautiful harmony in the motion of this 
diversified machinery. Here are machines for cutting, 
(mark those immense tyre-lathes !) planing, slotting, 
drilling, punching, rivetting, bolt-cutting, &c. Here 
are portable steam -engines, which can turn a line of 
shafting, or be attached, for convenience, to a single 
lathe. All this machinery seems to do its work with 
perfect ease, and little noise ; so that we can only 
judge by the results how powerful) it is. You would 
like to observe each process in the manufacture of a lo- 
comotive ? Dear reader, there is no pressing necessity 
why you should imbibe all this information in a few 
moments of time. Besides which, I question our ability 
to understand and retain the knowledge. No matter ; 
you will pester our guide with enquiries : — "How is 
the boiler constructed ?" Our guide is not a surly 
man, or he might have said — " Go, look." Instead of 
which he answers courteously : — Plate iron is obtained 
from the manufacturers, then smithed ; then bent, 
and punched, and|rivetted. "But about the fire-box ?" 
Well, copper of the required dimensions is obtained 
from the merchants ; then punched, and bent, and ri- 
vetted. Copper stays are used to fasten the plates. 

N 



210 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

The entire weight of the fire-box is about one ton and 
a-half . " And about the tubes ?" There are two tube- 
plates, which have brass tubes of about two inches 
diameter, and ten feet long, inserted through the holes 
in the tube plates, at both ends of the boiler ; each 
tube being also ferruled at both ends to prevent its 
moving ; and, also, as a stay, to keep the boiler and 
fire-box together. Each boiler contains about 180 tubes 
(weighing about two tons), which are worked at a pres- 
sure varying from 130 to 1401bs. to the square inch. 

We notice the first batch of three powerful engines, 
nearly ready for delivery to the Great Northern Rail- 
way Company. The cylinders have a bore of sixteen 
inches, and have been subjected to an hydraulic pres- 
sure of 3001bs. to the square inch. The -wheels are 
seven feet in diameter, and very strong. The famous 
Rocket, of which we have heard so much, weighed about 
four and a-half tons : each of these engines weighs up- 
wards of forty tons. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. | 211 



Doncaster Kailway Plant. 



The name of Doncaster has a large circulation. Lon- 
don is moderately well known. She has her Houses of 
Parliament, from whence edicts and ambassadors travel 
to distant climes. She has rich tradesmen, a noted 
Bank, and various auxiliaries to circulate money. 
There reside men who not only direct the thought and 
feeling of millions, but engraft memorials of our age 
upon the future. And, besides all these, London gains 
no little celebrity from her more intimate connection 
with the Sovereign of this wide kingdom. Liverpool 
and Manchester are known here and there, the one for 
her shipping and the other for his calico. But where, 
in the whole civilized world, can we find a man who 
has never heard of the Doncaster St. Leger ? Our 
fashionable readers in the Land of Frogs know a thing 
or two about Doncaster Races. "Ah," says one; 
"thirty years ago" — Hav'nt you been here since thirty* 
six ? Then you would not know the place. Dear me ! 
Why you had to post, stage by stage, all the way from 
London ; and even then, would have to arrive a week 
before the time to secure anything like eligible pro- 
vision. It took six weeks to make the double journey ? 
Yes ; I knew it would. Now people may leave Calais 
the day before this great race, and be home again the 
day after : such is the convenience of railways. But 
proceed, Monsieur, what of the town thirty years ago ? 
— just a passing glance, nothing more. You came 
South, enjoying what De Quincy calls "the glory of 
motion," on the top of a mail coach. Inside a post 
chaise, was it ? That's much the same. The entrance 
into Doncaster was very beautiful ; first, the fine open 
course, or race common, with its circular lines of rail- 
ing and elegant Grand Stand ; the causeway, or pro- 
menade, ornamented with trees ; the wide, straight, 
clean street, more than a mile in length. Yes, it was 
and is now, an airy, pleasant street, containing very 
good houses. Yes, it was a fine old church ; but that 

n3 



212 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

has been burnt down, and in its place stands a far 
more elegant but less commanding structure. Your 
leading impression is that Old Doncaster was just a 
snug little town, built in the form of a cross. It was 
just that. But you always wondered at those race 
meetings, how the few houses could accommodate such 
a large influx of visitors. The people were there, 
nevertheless ; and there they remained for several 
days : the visitors were taken in, and — " done for." 

And so, Monsieur, you have not been at Doncaster for 
thirty years. Ah, well ! You are getting an old man, 
and old age seeks quietude. The excitement of a horse- 
race, and all its collateral pleasures, have lost their 
charms. Your mature understanding finds more con- 
genial employment in studying our commercial aspects. 
H— m. Yes. Therefore, once for all, before Grim 
Death strikes home, you must make the grand tour 
through our famed Smoke Riding. Spare your old 
lungs ? The smoke would make you cough ? That man 
does not deserve the name of a philosopher who shrinks 
from breathing for a few hours an atmosphere which 
thousands inhale all their lives. Nay, do not begin to 
cough now, in anticipation. I assure you the atmos- 
phere is not so bad at the borders of our county ; that 
is to say, at Doncaster. Let us see. Great Northern : 
it starts from King's Cross at 9 a.m., and arrives at 
12 57. I shall be at the Station, waiting. 

All towns have their local celebrities, 
some remarkable for one thing and some for another. 
Is it a slight matter for a man to say, in the decline of 
life — " I have contributed in a large degree towards the 
material prosperity of my native town ?" Every one 
will admit that railways have been the making of several 
districts ; and it is very evident that they have altered 
the entire constitution of Doncaster. Instead of be- 
coming, as it is now, one of the most important railway 
junctions, and being able to boast of its vast Locomotive 
"Works, Doncaster was very near being left in its pristine 
condition. "Pity but that it had !" exclaimed one. 
So did not think Edmund Denison and Eobert Baxter, 
two old residents of the town. It happened that there 
was a fierce Parliamentary battle between the "Great 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 213 

Northern" and the "London and York Direct:" you 
remember the circumstances. Some think that the 
Great Northern Railway would never had an existance 
but for the unflagging energy of those two gentlemen. 
Be that as it may, we all know that Doncaster would 
never have had its Railway Plant but for the influence 
of the late chairman (Edmund Denison, Esq.). And 
have the interests of the Company suffered thereby ? 
Was Peterborough a better place to establish a Railway 
Plant ? Certainly not. Everybody admits now that 
the Works came to the right place. They are situate in 
the very heart of the mineral and iron district, where 
all requisite productions and skilled workmen are easily 
obtained. 

Yonder is the train, coming on at a flying pace. The 
whistle screeches, the platform-bell rings. The porter 
bawls — Donkeystir ! Donkeystir ! Donkeystir ! The 
train stops. Presently, I recognise Monsieur, with the 
snow-white beard, and there ensues a hearty and honest 
greeting. Welcome to Yorkshire ! But how do you 
bear the smoke ? Ugh, ugh, ugh ! You see nothing to 
complain of on that score yet ? Right, my friend ; we 
must get a little nearer Leeds and Bradford before your 
old lungs experience that infliction. But, first of all, 
we will pop into the Refreshment-rooms and have a 
sherry. " What ! and be looked down upon by the 
'Missis,' and 'Miss Whiff,' and 'Miss Piff' !" My 
dear sir, we are not at Mugby Junction. Here you will 
meet with proper attention, and — "Refreshments." 
But after such a long journey, perhaps you feel what 
Yorkshiremen call dry ? Yea ? Then have a Utter 
beer. 

You remember the old coach road, years ago — we 
have talked that matter over— what is your opinion of 
the entrance into Doncaster by the iron road from Lon- 
don ? The Great Northern line eschews everything pic- 
turesque until it approaches the borders of Yorkshire ; 
thence, for a few miles, the scenery is not without some 
pretensions to beauty. Did you notice those ornamen- 
tal grounds full of young trees some four miles south of 
this place ? " Yes, I observed them particularly ; and 
they suggested to my mind very forcibly this enquiry : — 
Two centuries hence, when these trees have expanded 



214 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

into giant growth, will the generations of men as they 
look upon their beauty know or care who planted them ?" 
Perhaps not. Near where those young plantations grace 
the little hills there stood some noble woods. (I ought 
to tell you that the district round— about 3,000 acres in 
extent — belonged to the Doncaster body corporate ; but 
ask me for particulars another time.) There was Hun- 
ster Wood — probably a corruption of Hunter's Wood — 
and two or three more, the names of which are almost 
forgotten. These gladdened the eyes of past generations, 
became dense coverts for game, and when cut down 
brought the new proprietor heaps of money. Some- 
body planted and reared them. Who planted them, 
and under what circumstances were they reared ? No- 
body knows, and very few persons would care to know. 
They flourished — those brave old trees — through many 
centuries, memorials of anonymous benefactors. Surely 
philanthropy is at the origin of all new plantations ; for 
the bits of stick which a man puts into the ground can 
yield neither beauty nor profit until the elements of his 
own body have nurtured their development. Thus, 
when we speak of our stately oaks being the sinews of 
past generations, the expression is something more than 
a metaphor. 

But a truce to moralising. On entering Doncaster, a 
quarter of an hour ago, what were your impressions of 
the town ? "I saw, in the first place, that there is a 
great deal of mineral and goods traffic passing this way ; 
but was still more astonished at the facilities for ex- 
pediting such traffic ; the amount of sidings and shunt- 
ing room here is enormous. Judging from appearances 
this accommodation has been recently enlarged." Yes, 
the Great Northern Company have just given the Cor 
poration of Doncaster £12,000 for forty acres of very 
poor land ; which is, perhaps, one-half more than the 
land was really worth. Still the Corporation did not 
want to sell, and the railway company did want to buy ; 
that makes the difference. Mr. Miller, in his History 
of Doncaster, says he bought some of this Carr land at 
seven pounds per acre ; but in course of time he sold it 
for forty pounds per acre. Since that period parcels of 
the same district have been purchased at a far less price 
than was obtained by Mr. Miller. But, Monsieur, these 



RELATING* TO YORKSHIRE. 215 

petty local details can have no interest for you. They 
have ? Then here is my hand ; from henceforth there 
will be a mental and moral consanguinity between us. 
Had you ever the ague ? "No, and do not want it." 
I believe you, my friend. But the old denizens of 
this low land must have shivered terribly. It was 
wet land. In some places horses would " sink up 
to the middle and get bogged." It was a paradise 
to the plovers, and the herons, and the snipes. Ileje, 
on Potteric Carr, the Buzzard'came seeking its prey ; 
and here the hunted stag wonld retire from his pur- 
suers. And what multitudes of ducks ! Speaking 
of wild -fowl brings to mind a curious phase of local 
history. In 1639, a merchant tailor of London be- 
queathed £100 to the poor of Doncaster for ever. 
Some few years later the Corporation decided to spend 
this money, together with a further sum of £60, 
" which the town owes to the said poor on another 
account," in constructing a Decoy, measuring some- 
thing like eight acres in extent. " Had the inhabi- 
tants free permission to catch wild-fowl there, or was 
the pond let for the benefit of the poor ?" It was let ; 
realizing at first £15 per annum ; then £12, with a 
bonus of twelve couples of ducks " whenever the 
Mayor should demand them." As time passed away, 
and wild- fowl became scarcer, the rent gradually de- 
clined, until at last 1 he Inclosure Act put an end to 
the merchant tailor's charitable provision. Monsieur, 
before entering Doncaster you passed right over the 
site of that ancient Decoy. There is no fear now of 
catching the ague in travelling through this district. 
Subject to miasma in certain conditions of the atmos- 
phere? Partially so. North-west the Carr is bordered 
by a high limestone ridge : it is just outside the town, 
on the Sheffield road. One may frequently see the mist 
like a dense cloud obscuring this Carr, when all is 
bright and clear above. The said mist very seldom 
riseth to the summit of that limestone ridge. Have 
another leer. " No more, thank you : let us look 
round the place. I noticed yonder huge building on 
entering the station -yard. What is it ?" An Infirmary ; 
you need not look so dubious : it is the Great Northern 
Infirmary for disabled and broken down rolling stock. 



216 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

I do assure you there are always plenty of patients. 
In addition to that natural decrepitude consequent upon 
old age, the casualties of "rolling" exceed any other 
kind of stock. The battle-field is appalling, where 
cannon mows men down ; but nowhere is destruction so 
signally apparent as in the dire collision of two furious 
trains. " It seems a large plant, judging from the 
exterior." Yes, and convenient, as you will acknow- 
ledge when we have been through it. Let us ask for 
admittance. 

But Monsieur must look well to his feet, or the rails 
will trip him up. I will look right and left, straight 
forward, and seven other ways, for fear some shunting 
train should maim or kill us. Kill us ! It must be a 
strange feeling, this emotional transition, when the spirit 
with one final throb quits the region of mortality ; for 
if natural philosophy tells us nothing of annihilation, 
they must be fools indeed who say or dream that the 
sentient principle in man can ever die. You do not 
long to realise the condition ? Nor I ; but do we not 
see that this clinging to life, which is an instinct of our 
nature, must be the motion of immortality ? Although 
not so active as you once were, and [noticing a distinct 
waddle] slightly affected with the gout, Monsieur still 
clings to life. Halt ! halt ! (just then a goods train 
whizzes past.) It's very dangerous ? Yes ; and yet 
about two thousand men pass over these rails half-a- 
dozen times a day. They cross and re- cross in the dark, 
and in the glare of the sun. Still it is very rare that 
any one is injured ; persons used to great risks keep 
their danger-eye open. " There are a great length and 
breadth of sidings." Right, Monsieur ; guess how many 
miles of rails there are connected with the Doncaster 
station. You give it up ? Well, one of the officials 
told me a few days ago, that there are not less than 
forty miles of rail. My friend would observe the ap- 
proaches south-east and westward. He would notice 
to the left an immense coal yard or mineral junction, 
leading on to the South Yorkshire line. ' ' Yes, and to 
the right I observed how the interminable sidings were 
almost carried into a picturesque little church and close 
past a pretty red-brick school. Are they also railway 
property?" If I were to answer "Yes," it would 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 217 

scarcely be correct ; and if I were to answer "No" it would 
scarcely be correct. The buildings were not erected, 
neither is the Church endowed, out of railway funds ; 
but the Messrs. Denison, father and son, subscribed 
part of the capital, begging the rest from individual 
shareholders and their private friends. Surely it was 
right and proper, that when the company transplanted 
a large new population into this hitherto quiet town 
some provision should be made for their education and 
spiritual wants. What is your opinion ? "I think the 
efforts are worthy of all honour." 

This way, please ; we will have a look at the north 
end of the yard and works. Did you ever see so much 
ground connected with any other station in the world ? 
'■I never did. How much land is appropriated ?" I 
foresaw that you might want a little statistical informa- 
tion to carry back with you to France ; and so I asked 
Mr. Sterling for certain particulars, which he very 
amply furnished. Let us see what he says on this point 
[referring to the memoranda] : — 

The total area of stations, coal-yard, sidings, and plant is 
about sixty-five acres, exclusive of the Carr-sidings, for which 
above forty acres of land were recently purchased from the 
Corporation of Doncaster. The Plant Works themselves 
cover an area of about seventeen and a half acres. 

So that you see, there are above a hundred acres of land 
connected with this single railway station of Doncaster. 
" It's marvellous, when we begin to consider what Don- 
caster once was. How many men are there employed 
in connection with the Plant Works ?" There is a 
memorandum on this point also : — 
Total number of men in Locomotive Department . . 842 

„ „ Carriage „ 471 

,, Running , 358 



1,671 
KB.— This table does not at all represent the total number 
of men employed by the G. N. R. for locomotive purposes, as the 
company have also works for the repair of engines, &c. at 
Boston, Peterborough, and London. 

Neither does this number include all the company's 
servants residing at Doncaster. There are upwards of 
fifty engineers' men (employed in the repairing of sta- 
tions, and this district of the permanent way) ; then 
there are clerks, porters, signalmen, &c, &c. ; so that 



218 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

we may reckon fully two thousand men on the pay- 
sheets of the Great Northern Railway Company in this 
town. But further, suppose that three-fourths of this 
number represent heads of families, and that on an 
average, each householder provides daily sustenance for 
three members besides himself ; we have a new railway 
community, created and supported by the Gr. N. R., 
numbering scarcely one-third less than the whole popu- 
lation of Doncaster thirty years ago. Some time, over 
a quiet cigai-, I will give you my opinion respecting the 
new engraftation, what influences has been exercised 
upon, and reflected by, the old population ; in a word 
we will try to appreciate the results — social and com- 
mercial — of this great artisan element. 

But at present we must observe rather than reflect. 
See, there are the "Running Sheds," very conve- 
niently situated behind the station-platform. Here 
locomotives have their genei'al health improved by sanitary 
operations ; and where any temporary ailment, or slight 
bruises receive prompt attention. Such treatment, 
taken in time, often saves the engine from a protracted 
and expensive regimen in the big building opposite. 

The principal works have a large and imposing front, 
but you would not surmise that they covered nearly 
eighteen acres of ground. " I should not have thought 
so ; and what seems remarkable, there is not a single 
door in the front for ingress or egress." Not one ; we 
must go to the angle — this way, please ; and then you 
will be able to discover the plan and arrangement of 
the buildings. Notice how that little sentry-box com- 
mands the whole approaches . The sentry has his eye 
upon us ; but he will not presume to interrogate, be- 
cause Monsieur has such a "presence," that he will 
easily pass current as the proprietor of a hundred shares. 
Here you observe a door in the corner, which is closed, 
and beyond it a very spacious entrance, which is open. 
It is now nearly half -past two by the clock. " Well ?" 
If we had been here half an hour ago, the wicket-door 
would have been open, and the great entrance-gates 
closed. Supposing Monsieur had been a carriage- 
builder, or a fitter, or a smith, he enters with the 
moving column through that little door, depositing his 
" check," or numbered counter in the receiving-box ; 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 219 

by this means the time-keeper knows who punctually 
arrived, and who are absent. 

You perceive the general plan of the works ; there is 
a double row of shops, with a main street, or rather 
tramway and causeway down the centre : also, cross- 
roads to connect the opposite shops. 

We must keep to the right, because, as you see, the 
tramways are crowded with large driving, or " crank- 
wheels," coupled on to very strong shafts. Those 
crank- wheels are purchased from various manufacturers. 
I believe, also, that all or nearly all metal castings are 
contracted for, but with the exception of these, and steel 
tyres, every important part of a locomotive engine, car- 
riage, or waggon is produced upon the premises. "Let 
me understand you. With the exceptions just named, 
everything required by the company in the manufacture 
or repair of locomotive engines is done on their own 
works. Is this so ?" Respecting the manufacture of 
engines, No ; respecting the repairing of engines, Yes. 
The Great Northern Railway Company have in use 442 
locomotive engines, of which, perhaps, not a dozen have 
been built at their own works. All the repairs, how- 
ever, are done here ; and I understand that some of the 
older engines have scarely an original part in them. As 
in our human body, while the identity is preserved, 
every material atom has been successively renewed . 

Now mark how easily two or three men move that 
huge, disabled engine from the tramway by the steam- 
traveller into the Erecting-shop. Yes, the contrivance 
is admirable. ' ' Hallo ! (speaking to one of the men) 
supposing my friend and myself were to step on, along 
with this engine ; should we be the last lb to break the 
camel's back ?" " Why, no (and he looked down with 
a quiet smile) ; anyhow, I am quite ready to take the 
responsibility." So we got on to the platform-traveller, 
which very soon glided slowly but smoothly forward 
into the shop. "A large room !" Very ; it is 320 feet 
long, by 102 feet wide ; there being accommodation for 
rebuilding or repairing 42 engines. How will they move 
the engine from this platform ? Why see those over- 
head cranes, each of which will lift 45 tons, and travel 
the whole length of the shop . 

"1 comprehend." 



220 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

Here is the Tender-shop, measuring 226 feet long, 
by 52 feet wide ; and has a 35 ton overhead travelling 
crane. Those machines, as you see, are for slotting and 
drilling the frames. 

Next comes the Boiler- shop, or rather shops, for 
this department has recently had a new wing built to it. 
The old part is 152 feet long, by 45 feet wide, and the 
new part is 136 feet long, by 45 feet wide. Boiler- 
plates are stronger than card-board ; are they not ? 
Yes. And as hard as nails ? Certainly. But wonder- 
ful is the power of machinery. Those strong plates are 
bent, punched, sheared, and planed as if they had been 
made of lead. But look at that iron monster, named a 
riveting machine. The plates are put between his head 
and the massive pillar. Crunch ! There is one terrible 
nip, and the long loose bolt acquires two heads where 
there only was one, and is almost squeezed into the com- 
bined plates. 

Now let us proceed to the Smithy. A very long 
place ? Yes ; it is 430 feet long, by 45 feet wide. It 
contains 54 smith's hearths or fires, and 5 steam ham- 
mers, to do the heavy forgings, and two of Ryder's 
machines for making bolts. Perhaps in no part of these 
vast works is there more genius and skill required than 
in the Smithy. It is a popular fallacy to suppose that 
any man will make a good smith providing he has mus- 
cular power. Machinery may bend, form, and manipu- 
late things very accurately, and very expeditiously, so 
that the ingenuity of man is only shown in constructing 
the tools. But smiths' work depends mainly for success 
upon the ingenious hand, and the disciplined eye. 

"That is a heavy, glowing mass to handle" (speaking 
to one of the men). 

" It's 'ot, : * says he. 

"Yes," says I ; "it is." 

" It's devilish 'ot," continued he. 

" No," says I ; "its hot from combustion." 

The man looks first at myself, and then at the iron, 
as if dubious whether anything more need be said on 
the subject. But nothing more was said. 

The Spring-shop adjoins the Smithy, and is about 
120 feet square. It contains, as you see, two furnaces, 
and 12 smiths' hearths. This room is entirely used for 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 221 

locomotive carnage and waggon springs. I understood 
Mr. Shotton to say, a minute ago, that they here manu- 
facture all the springs which are used in the Plant. 

We will just glance at the Forge, which is 157 feet 
long by 45 feet wide, and contains four furnaces, and 
three steam-hammers. Here, as you observe, the 
heavy forgings are done, such as axles, wheels, &c. By 
an economic contrivance, the boilers which supply 
steam to those hammers, are acted upon by the waste 
heat from the furnaces. I may also mention, that in 
the yard, over six coke-ovens, the waste heat generates 
steam in boilers for various stationary engines. 

We might spend two or three hours with interest 
in the upper and lower Turning-shops, which occupy a 
large portion of the front building. They are each 
335 feet long by 45 feet wide, and are what we may say 
croivded with machinery. The lower Turnery, as you 
see, is used for the heaviest work, such as boring and 
planing cylinders, turning axles, wheels, &c. The 
upper Turnery (this way, Monsieur) is filled with lighter 
machinery ; such as lathes, drilling, planing and 
slotting machines : it is also used as a fitting, and brass 
finishing shop. The shafting for both places is driven 
by a splendid pair of engines, with a combined power of 
80 horses. You must look at these as we are leaving 
the works. The entire machinery will be a large item 
in capital ? Yes. I have not been able to arrive at 
the estimated cost in respect to Doncaster ; but the total 
capital invested by the company for machinery is nearly 
£80,000. 

We will peep at the Brass Foundry, which is 90 
feet long by 25 feet wide, and contains 12 furnaces. 
A large sum is annually expended by the company in 
brass and copper. 

Now for the Carriage Shops, one of which is 253 
feet long by 130 feet wide ; the other 170 feet square. 
Conjointly they have facilities for building and repairing 
130 carriages at a time. Mr. Griffiths tells me that 
for some months past these shops have been entirely 
devoted to repairs ; but it has happened that many 
splendid carriages, and even Royal-saloons, were manu- 
factured here. There is a separate shop for painting, 
which is 178 feet long by 130 feet wide. In all these 



222 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

places you may observe travellers down the centre, for 
taking the vehicles in and out. " But waggons, or 
what you provincial folk call ' trucks ;' are not they 
made and repaired in the same compartments ?" No. 
Come this way. 

The two Waggon Shops are each 202 feet long by 130 
feet wide, with room conjointly, to build or repair about 
130 waggons. All the timber used here is sawn on 
the premises by vertical and circular saws, which are 
driven by a 25 Horse-power engine. 

According to the Company's report there are in use 
1,124 carriages, and 9,984 waggons ; besides above 530 
spring vans drawn by horses, to deliver goods in London 
and elsewhere. 

This is the (xrease House. You do not care to go 
into the grease-house ? My dear friend, grease is a very 
important item in all railway accounts . I remember, 
not long ago, the shareholders in one of our largest rail- 
ways got up quite a sensation on this subject of grease. 
The simple figures seemed to their unsophisticated 
minds something appalling. Probably one or two in- 
dividuals, of an imaginative turn, would picture to them- 
selves the mountain of fat which that debit represented. 
But suppose for a moment that the G-.N.R. directors, from 
motives of economy, were to interdict the use of grease 
for fourteen days, what would be the effect ? Is there 
anything more horrible than the screech of a thirsty 
cart? Suppose that the 50,000 wheels of this com- 
pany's rolling stock were each respectively to reiterate 
such discordant noise, what would become of the drum 
of men's ears ? Grease is a necessity. 

The company have lately built Gr as- works, at a cost 
of about £8,000, to supply the various shops, and the 
railway station with gas. There are 35 retorts, set in 7 
benches, 25 of which, 1 understand, will be in constant 



EELATING TO YOKKSHIRE. 223 

THE OAKS COLLIEKY TWO MONTHS 
AFTEK AN EXPLOSION. 



There is a melancholy quietness pervading all the 
scene. Not now, at fitful intervals, comes the boom of 
an explosive shock, bringing paroxyisrns of dread to 
the initiated ear. Not now rushes to the spot an eager 
multitude, impelled by fear, or curiosity, or that fra- 
ternal sympathy, which is stronger than philanthropy. 
There are no heroic bands gathering now, willing to 
jeopardise their lives to save their fellows ; hope has 
long ceased to stimulate duty, for by this time, pro- 
bably, not even a charred disfigured corpse is left for 
rescue. 

The retrospect is very painful. On the 12th of last 
December, three hundred and forty men and boys were 
down in this pit, alive and working. Of this number 
fully one-third would be husbands and fathers. It was 
nearly half-past 1 o'clock, p.m., when a terrible shock 
was felt, as if some heavy cannon had been discharged 
in the neighbouring hollow. But the colliery popula- 
tion knew well what such a sound betokened, and they 
rushed in consternation to the old pit-hill. Here signs 
of an explosion were visible enough. The cage had been 
blown out from one of the shafts. There was no with- 
standing that evidence. Crowds of people hurried to the 
Oaks, moved by one desire to save, if possible, some 
inmates of that fiery cavern. The brave engineers and 
miners, several of whom had relatives down in the pit, 
were not deterred by the presence of gas or choke- 
damp : they entered the cage in No. 2 shaft, and went 
down into the region of death. The sickening spec- 
tacle presented for the next few hours on that pit-hill 
will live for ever in the memory of the observers — 
charred, blackened, but not utterly lifeless forms are 
delivered to weeping relatives ; and when such breath- 
ing remnants of humanity could no longer be found, 
disfigured corpses were brought up. Twenty human 



224 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

beiDgs were recovered alive, but of these fourteen were 
so seriously injured that they have since died. These 
few living workers had made their way towards the 
shaft, where there was some measure of ventilation : 
those found in the distant workings were all dead, 
killed, probably, not by the explosion, but by the 
poisonous after-damp. 

The cage, freighted with relays of eager volunteers, 
ascended and descended all night long, restoring lifeless 
forms to relatives, who, in many cases, could scarcely 
recognize the features. During twelve hours succeeding 
the explosion, about fifty bodies, in various conditions 
of ghastliness, were brought up from the pit. But 
there were scores of wives, mothers, and children who 
had not even these relics to comfort them ; they went 
home in despair, if home it may be called, where the 
bread-winner could enter no more. 

On Thursday morning, about nine o'clock, another 
and louder report was heard. The earth shook and 
trembled, for th» Fiend of Fire-damp was wroth. The 
shafts belched up smoke, coal-dust, soot, and broken 
timber, scattering the fragments far and wide. The 
bystanders were awe-strucken, and strong men wept with 
anguish as they recollected that twenty-seven explorers 
were then in the pit. The empty cage was lowered in 
silence and fear. It was afterwards drawn up, but it 
remained empty still ; and then the bystanders felt that 
all hope for the brave volunteers was gone. Two men 
lay at the pit-mouth, and amidst a profound stilness 
" chucked" their voices down the heated shaft. There 
was no response. 

During the day (Thursday, Dec. 13th) a third explo- 
sion took place, and in the evening a column of white 
smoke was emitted from No. 2 shaft, accompanied by 
volumes of sparks. At this time all surface lights had 
been extinguished, while, excepting the presence of 
police, with a few coal-mine officials, the pit hill was 
quite deserted. Between four and five o'clock on Fri- 
day morning, the watchers were startled by hearing the 
pit bell ring. It was not a mere hallucination, the 
sound was repeated, proving, contrary to all expectation, 
that there was life in the mine. A bottle of brandy 
was let down by a string ; and when the latter was 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 225 

drawn up, the bottle was absent. Presently a rope 
and small cage, or tub, were extemporised (the winding- 
gear of both shafts being totally disabled), when two 
gentlemen descended the shaft. At the bottom was 
Sam Brown, one of the twenty-seven volunteers, alive 
but nearly exhausted. The two explorers went some 
distance through the pit, searched and shouted ; they 
discovered that the mine, in one place was on fire, but 
could find no other living human being. It excited 
great surprise that this Samuel Brown should remain 
alive twenty hours after that second explosion, in which 
all his associates had perished. How had they asso- 
ciated ? Brown's statement is that, at the pit bottom, 
the party of volunteers had separated ; that when he 
and three of his companions went down the incline 
they encountered two bodies, which they carried to the 
engine plane that they might be drawn to the surface. 
Soon after they met a party of explorers who were 
hastening back to the shaft, because the condition of 
the pit in that direction was very bad . After this he 
(Brown) and his coadjutors took refuge in the lamp- 
hole, situate between the two shafts, and where there 
would be some degree of ventilation. While there he 
heard the explosion, and after that became unconscious. 
He was still in the lamp-hole when he recovered his 
senses, and on going out discovered that some corves of 
coal were burning. He at length found the bell-rope, 
heard the response, drank the brandy, and was ulti- 
mately rescued. The inference is that Samuel Brown 
had never advanced far from the pit bottom. But 
what became of his companions ? On this matter he 
can furnish little or no information. 

On Saturday, December 15th, three or four more ex- 
plosions took place. The reports were loud, and there 
was still a great emission of coal-dust, soot, and broken 
timber from the two shafts. The task of exploring the 
mine had long since been abandoned. To stifle the fire 
the cupola was first filled up. It was probably the best 
policy to choke the up cast ; but during the next fort- 
night not less than a dozen distinct explosions were 
heard at the surface, some of them very powerful. 
Meetings of colliery proprietors and mining engineers 
continued to be held, and it was decided to stop the 





226 STOEIES AND SKETCHES 

down-cast air in both No. 1 and No. 2 shafts. This 
was done. Then followed the coroner's inquest, occu- 
pying many days. 

But before noticing that investigation, let us glance 
at the past history of the pit. It is above thirty years 
since the first " corve" was brought to bank at the Oaks 
Colliery. For eight or ten years, while the mine was 
limited, no serious accident occurred. In 1845, how- 
ever, there were two explosions, during one of which 
the pit was fired. Fortunately, on each occasion but 
few colliers were in the workings, so that only three or 
four lives were sacrificed. Two years afterwards (1847) 
a far more terrible explosion occurred, and it was 
generally understood that the gas had accumulated in 
an old abandoned working. There were about a 
hundred men and boys in the pit, seventy-three of 
whom were killed, and twenty-six rescued alive. Of 
course then, as now, there was a coroner's inquest with 
the usual verdict — "Accidental death." But the jury 
urged their opinion "that the recurrence of accidents 
involving so large a loss of human life demands the im- 
mediate attention of Her Majesty's Government, and 
would justify Parliament in passing such a code of 
regulations as would give greater security to persons 
employed in mining operations." The catastrophe ex- 
cited a great deal of public excitement and no small 
amount of sympathy. Nearly twenty years have elapsed 
since then ; and meanwhile the insidious forces have 
nurtured themselves for a wider and more signal des- 
truction. True, about that time (1848) some material 
changes were made in the organisation of the pit. The 
down-cast shaft was converted into an " up-cast" or 
cupola, while the present No. 1 and No. 2 shafts, which 
had been sunk only to the upper seam and afterwards 
abandoned, were carried down to the lower levels, and 
employed as down-cast air and drawing shafts. The 
depth of these is now about 280 yards, but the seam, 
which is above eight feet in thickness, dips so consider- 
ably that some of the workings would be at least 400 
yards below the surface. It is computed that about 
300 acres of coal had been got at the Oaks Colliery, the 
average yield being about 4, 000 tons per week ; that 
the pit contains about 60 miles of wall, and when the 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 227 

explosion occurred there were men in those distant 
levels, two miles or more from the bottom of the shaft. 
How was it possible that these men could be rescued 
alive ? There has been grievous error apparent in the 
management of this colliery. A novice would be con- 
vinced of this fact after five minutes' reflection. Nine- 
teen years have elapsed since the catastrophe happened, 
during which time the workings have become vastly ex- 
tended without any adequate provision being made in 
the shape of extra shafts. Surely upon this vital matter 
the managers must have displayed heedlessness or wil- 
ful neglect. Years ago, one if not two additional shafts 
might have been sunk in the distant workings ; thus 
affording not only increased ventilation, but a conveni- 
ent means of exit in case of accident. I grant that such 
additions would have been attended with great expense ; 
but what of that ? Men's lives ought to take prece- 
dence of mere per centages and profits. I know that 
this is a delicate, and, in some respects, a difficult 
question. There are few braver or kinder hearted men 
than Mr. Dymond, the suffering proprietor of the Oaks. 
Eat the truth must be spoken, even when it may tend 
to aggravate a good man's sorrow. Still before we go 
so far as to assume that, constituted as this pit was, 
such a dire result was inevitable, it will be only just to 
trace carefully the effects from their cause. 

The reader is already acquainted with the general 
plan of the colliery. There are three shafts. The two 
" downcasts" are only a few yards apart, situate close 
to the South Yorkshire Railway ; the upcast, or cupola 
being at a distance of about 500 yards from the former. 
The workings, as we have seen, are the most extensive 
in Yorkshire. There was a furnace, constantly burning 
under this upcast shaft to accellerate the draft, drawing 
up the return air, charged with gas. There was a 
gasometer to store the gas, which by means of pipes 
was drained from the overcharged workings ; and this 
supply was utilised by lighting the principal roadway. 
A dispute has arisen whether it is better to burn 
gas in the mine, or carry it off in a separate air-course. 
I believe in some of the northern collieries they have a 
method of piping the gas into a special shaft, or cupola, 
and burning it at the surface. 

o3 



228 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

It is generally acknowledged that the Barnsley seam 
is peculiarly liable to emit sudden and extraordinary 
effusions of gas. The "goaves" are almost always 
more or less surcharged with gas, which, at times, is 
given off in such volumes as to necessitate the most 
careful working. On several occasions during the last 
twenty years there had been extensive escapes of gas at 
the Oaks, more than once putting out the " Greordie" 
lamps ; but, luckily, without coming in contact with a 
naked light. Once the floor cracked for a considerable 
distance, when the fire-damp rushed out with a loud 
hissing noise, like that of escaped steam from a boiler. 
At another time the mine was fouled for above 1,500 
yards, extinguishing all the lamps within that radius. 
"We are now sufficiently aware that, in the vast dip 
levels of this pit there were frequent and dangerous 
accumulations of fire-damp, which needed only the ap- 
plication of a spark to produce the most disastrous 
results. We know, also, that safety lamps do sometimes 
get damaged from a stroke of the pick, or other causes : 
then where there is gas there must be destruction. Only 
one safe and practical remedy occurs to us, and that is 
by a thorough ventilation to dilute and dissipate those 
noxious gases. 

The fearful explosions in December last did not occur 
without premonitory symptoms. Some time previously 
a deputation waited upon the manager, stating that the 
pit was in a highly dangerous condition, that several 
of the hands refused to work, and that if some better 
means were not applied to remove the gas, a serious 
calamity might be expected. The presence of fire-damp 
was so extensive for days preceding the explosion, that 
men escaped giddy and almost insensible from the 
breaks. Under these circumstances, had any lamp been 
accidentally damaged, an explosion was inevitable. 
The miners dare not even take the safety lamp near 
some of the " goaves," since it would immediately have 
been put out. The underviewers had chalked the word 
Fire in some of the distant workings, that hands might 
exercise special care. Still the managers do not appear 
to have seen, or, at least, refused to acknowledge that 
the pit was more than ordinarily dangerous. There 
were 160,000 cubic feet of air per minute passing 



RELATING- TO YORKSHIRE. 229 

through the down cast shafts into the mine. Something 
they resolved upon, nevertheless, and that was to make 
an extra drift to assist the ventilation, and afford a 
better means of exit from the pit. So they urged on 
the operation with all speed by blasting. It has since 
been a subject of much controversy whether the firing 
of such a shot did not explode the mine. True, this 
stone drift, where the blasting took place, was only 
about 80 yards from the pit bottom, while there was a 
naked light in " Thompson's box-hole," and naked gas 
lights along the engine- plane for a distance of 800 
yards. It is contended, therefore, that "loads of gas" 
could not accumulate and explode in the full stream of 
this down cast air. But it is a singular coincidence 
that the explosion should have immediately succeeded 
one such discharge of powder. A witness at the inquest 
states that he was ordered into the boxhole (a place 
where lamps are kept), because they were going to "fire 
a shot." First, there was a dull, heavy sound, as if the 
blast had penetrated into some distant working, when, 
in a few seconds, the pit exploded, and before he be- 
came unconscious, the whole mine was a body of flame. 
The lamp-keeper told how the firing of those shots 
generally put the lights out for a considerable distance 
in the engine-plane ; but he had never before seen a 
blaze as the result of such blasting. Immediately 
upon firing that last, powerful shot, the pit was all on 
fire. It is reported that one sufferer on his death-bed 
volunteered a statement that he warned the men not to 
fire that shot, because of the dangerous presence of gas . 
The fire, from whatever point the explosion took place, 
appears to have been very extensive, and is conclusive 
evidence that the presence of gas had almost flooded 
the mine. 

So far as we know, no catastrophe in Yorkshire, at 
any time, has cut off so many human beings at a stroke. 
After the first thrill of consternation had passed away, 
people said to one another — Now the public mind will 
be thoroughly aroused, and something must be done to 
prevent such disasters. The Coroner and jury sat thir- 
teen days, and after listening to some evidence, and a 
great deal of scientific disquisition, returned the follow- 
ing verdict : — "That Richard Hunt and others were 



230 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

killed by an explosion of fire -damp at the Oaks Colliery* 
on the 12th of December, 1866, but there is no evidence 
to prove wheie or how it ignited. The jury think it 
unnecessary to make any special recommendations as to 
the working of mines, seeing that the Government is 
collecting information, no doubt with a view to the 
better protection of life, but they think a more strict 
inspection is desirable." 

And what next? The "accident" has caused wide- 
spread suffering, the result of which will not cease for 
many years to come. And the sorrow ! — the wide- 
spread grief which has entered into so many homes, 
severing the vital organization. I sometimes think that 
tbere is a strange fallacy abroad respecting the social and 
domestic life of grimy colliers, and, indeed, with 
respect to the whole class of what are termed menial 
workers. Respectable people are apt to think that 
beautiful sorrow is confined to the educated and the 
refined, forgetting that there is often little sincerity in 
the conventional drapery of woe. People who "pass 
on the other side," and get but a passing glance at the 
outward aspect of low-class life, undertake to become 
social tutors. If such men could penetrate beyond the 
rough, and often rude exterior, they would not unfre- 
quently find a deep substratum of moral rectitude, con- 
sistent purpose, and honest, undesembled feeling . But 
enough on this head ; with right thinking people, a 
regard for the condition of those bereaved ones will 
survive the varying phases of public excitement. 

Public excitement in relation to this great calamity is 
gradually subsiding. And now— What? The subject 
will certainly add another item to the details of local 
chronology. There has been two months' twaddle about 
cause and effect, and now — What ? I speak to men in 
authority, and practical men. Is the whole matter to 
be shelved, or evaporate in a few vague resolutions, 
until another similar casualty excites a parallel con- 
sternation ? There is one fundamental question which, 
to my mind, has never been satisfactorily answered : — 
Can explosions in these deep, extensive mines be en- 
tirely prevented ? The preponderance of testimony from 
mining engineers (and such men ought to know) is, that 
they'cannot. Increased care, and superior ventilation, 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE, 231 

may lessen the severity or frequency of such accidents ; 
but so long as the world lasts, while there are mines to 
be worked, and coal to be got, there will inevitably be 
jeopardy of life. It is so with our mariners. The ship 
may be good, and the hands may be experienced ; there 
may be systematic and unceasing watchfulness ; but 
some unprecedented storm, or treacherous quicksand, 
may render futile all human endeavours, and the coast 
will now and then be strewn with wrecks. 

The footpath leading from Ardsley to the Oaks Col- 
liery was barricaded. Upon the boards were warning 
placards — " Very dangerous," " No person admitted," 
&c. Still I had the temerity to climb over a low wall 
which skirts the railway, and advance towards the pit 
bill. Some misgiving arose in the mind, nevertheless. 
Suppose a proprietor happens to be present, and asks 
peremptorily why a stranger comes there, in direct con- 
travention to the notices, what shall I answer. The 
best plan under all circumstances is to speak the truth. 
For instance. Question : Who are you ? Answer : 
A member of the Fourth Estate. (That has a grand 
sound, particularly to those who know not its signifi- 
cation.) — Question : I beg your pardon, sir, but what 
may be the object of your visit. Answer : To obtain 
information concerning the present aspect of this colliery, 
and submit such report to the nation. Surely this will 
be deemed satisfactory. It happened, however, that 
nobody was visible except a watchman, who not only 
shewed me round the place, but furnished various items 
of information. When the first explosion took place this 
man was on the pit hill, and (to use his own words), ' ' felt 
such a sucking of the air," that to prevent being drawn 
into the shaft he had to hold fast by the headgear. 

"You knew what that meant ?" 

"I knew that the pit had fired, and said to myself — 
' God help them men and lads, far off in the workings!' " 

" Then you thought they must all have perished?" 

' ' No, I did not think it was so bad as that ; the ex- 
plosion did not seem so terrible at the shaft. But the 
after-damp ! — this is what kills men." 

"Suppose, however, there had been no explosions 
after the first, would it have been possible to recover 
any from those distant workings alive ?" 



232 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

" Can't say. I believe every effort was made by the 
explorers to rescue men, dead or alive." 

''Some people think now that if they had. used simi- 
lar exertions to put out the fires, no further explosions 
would have occurred." 

"Maybe so. I only know that the second explosion 
was a deal louder and more powerful than the first : it 
made the windows in the houses at Hoyle Mill fair 
dither." 

I stood between the two shafts down which so many 
had gone to the region of death. One shaft was filled 
up -chokeful of earth and rubbish ; the other had a 
wooden scaffold suspended by wire ropes, and let down 
about twenty yards. Upon this cage was first piled 
straw, &c, and then puddled clay; so that, except a 
small aperture from a temporary iron pipe (which con- 
tains a valve to close or open the oritice at will), this 
shaft, also, was sealed up. I suppose that by the signs 
of up-cast gas, or down-cast air, through this narrow 
pipe, the viewers may form some opinion respecting the 
internal condition of the mine. While I am writing, a 
strong current of air is passing down this narrow funnel 
(for many days together it had continued to emit gas), 
which leads experienced men to infer that there must 
still be fire in the pit, One would think, in such a 
case, that smoke would inevitably find its way to the 
surface. It appears more probable, now ventilation is 
almost totally cut off, that the mine will be a huge re- 
servoir of foul air and fire-damp : some care will have to 
be exercised in opening the shafts. Yes. 

It was not necessary to linger on that gloomy pit hill 
— a few moments sufficed for my eye to take in all ob- 
jects on the surface — so I enquired the way to Hoyle 
Mill, where many bereaved families are congregated. 
As the result of this single calamity, we learn that there 
are here 50 widows and 113 fatherless children. Out 
of about 60 cottages which form this hamlet, there is 
left a male population numbering only thirteen, "who are 
capable of earning a living. Since these widows (together 
with many living at Barnsley, and other places) are left 
totally destitute, it was evident from the first that help 
must be brought to them. Public benevolence has not 
been so extensively developed at this crisis, as it was 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 233 

when the Hartley Colliery explosion occurred, partly, 
no doubfc, because it was known that considerable por- 
tions of that fund were never appropriated. Still, dur- 
ing the last three months, very encouraging lists of sub- 
scribers have been issued, and I felt a little interest in 
learning how the common fund was being administered. 
There stands a sort of school-house, or public room, 
near the Oaks colliery, to which place, on this 
particular day, a considerable number of women 
were going and returning. It struck me at once 
that these were the widows of such as had 
perished in this pit ; and so it turned out : their errand 
was to the school-room for their weekly subscriptions. 
"How did they look— those widows?" For shame, 
reader ! Why do you wish to make a raree-show of 
private sorrow ? You are not curious ? You only sti- 
pulate, as a public duty, that there shall be a decent 
observance of grief ? Well, well, the world is critical. 
I remember, when a boy, feeling surprise and pain 
when any one who had a mourning band on his hat hap 4 
pened to be merry or profane. To my unsophisticated 
mind the affinity of family souls was unspeakably 
sacred ; so that the very idea of death and separation 
was terrible enough to stifle the whole future of joy. 
This was very childish, you know, and not a healthful 
instinct, since, acted upon, it would be like carrying a 
taint of the charnel house into a conservatory of 
luxuriant flowers. True, bereavement, like a bad cold, 
affects people differently. There may be those who see 
in the severance of family ties only the addition or sub- 
traction of meat and drink. Others think and feel dif- 
ferently. But to the point— these poor women, on the 
whole, were very decently clad, and, without 
simulating a mournful demeanour, appeared to nur- 
ture a consciousness of their loss. Some of them 
were more than tidy, exhibiting in mourning habili- 
ments a visible fondness for dress. ' ' Humph ! one 
would suppose they could not find money enough 
to indulge such a propensity." That is a very ill- 
natured remark, reader, and shows that your 
heart cannot be in the right place. I did not 
say that their dress was extravagant or unbecoming. 
Take this dictum with you, and be assured of its truth, 



234 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

that it is only a worthless woman who pays no regard to 
her personal appearance. Furthermore, I really believe 
these widows feel that their dress and demeanour exhibit 
a tribute of respect to those names which fate has made 
of public significance. Those poor women may not be 
able to define such a motive in so many words ; but the 
reality is there notwithstanding. Nor, in accepting 
public bounty will they feel that demoralizing sense of 
dependence whish is commonly the result of eleemosy- 
nary aid. Truly, they do right to regard their position 
more in the light of pensioners than of paupers on the 
public purse. What do they receive ? That is an im- 
portant, practical question. On approaching Iloyle 
Mill, I met a gentleman who appeared very likely to 
furnish suitable information ; so we fell into discourse. 
Said I— 

"There are several hundred women made widows by 
the explosion in yonder pit ; can you inform me how 
much per week they have to live upon ? " 

"Yes," said he, "lean. The widows receive, at 

present, ten shillings per week — five shillings from the 

Relief Fund and five shillings from the Miners' Union." 

" Each the same amount whether she has a family or 

not?" 

" I was going to tell you — there is an additional half- 
a-crown a week allowed for each child under thirteen 
years of age." 

"And will the widows continue to receive ten shil- 
lings weekly for life ? " 

' ' That may depend upon circumstances — in respect 
to the Relief Fund, whether the subscriptions will hold 
out ; and in respect to the Miners' Union, whether it 
may not eventually have to make some special agree- 
ment with the participants. For instance, a bonus of 
£20 is now offered to every widow who shall change her 
condition, i.e., take a second husband ; since she is 
thenceforth disqualified from receiving relief." 

" But, supposing she repudiates all intentions of dis- 
solving her connection with the miners general by en- 
tering into a more personal union, — what then f" 

" In that case it sometimes happens that the associa- 
tion will still make a special agreement with the re- 
cipient, whereby, in consideration of a certain sum paid 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 235 

down, all further claim upon the funds is abrogated. 
The Kelief-comuiittee, in like manner, may come to 
some final agreement, and divide the remaining assets 
amongst the recipients. At present, I believe,, the 
Miner's Union is strong, and affords ground of hope 
that, under such calamitous circumstances, every col- 
lier's widow will receive a stipulated sum weekly for 
life." 

" Then you consider such unions or associations to be 
very beneficial ?" 

" As organizations of labour I think they are often 
decidedly mischievous, causing much dissension, and no 
little suffering. But as mutual benefit or provident 
societies, they may do incalculable good. And this 
matter brings to recollection the fact that many of those 
unfortunate colliers were members of various benefit 
societies, so that their widows are in receipt of a speci- 
fied sum, called funeral money. The aggregate of these 
payments is telling seriously upon the funds of certain 
local clubs." 

Here we separated ; he was going towards Ardsley, 
and I was going on to Barnsley (intending first to glance 
at the desolate hamlet of Hoyle Mill) ; so he bade me 
"good morning," I bade him "good morning," and 
we parted. 

Then I took a bird's-eye view of the landscape, which 
is here very irregular. The hills rise abruptly, . with 
deep valleys between. Was there ever a time when 
our globe was even, and smooth as an orange ? Yes, it 
might be so once ; but that would be in the infancy of 
this child called earth, when it was thrown off from some 
parent system in a condition of — What ? I will thank 
the reader to inform me. Unfortunately no one has yet 
bored through the centre to the other hemisphere, or he 
might set at rest various surmises, namely, how deep 
the crust extends, and what there is beyond it. True, 
we can get to a primitive bed, which bears little or no 
evidence of disintegration, which presents the molten 
appearance of furnace dross, only a hundred times 
harder. We know that the condition of these rocks is 
an evidence of central fire ; but who can tell us whether 
the centre of our globe is really a seething, bubbling 
mass, or merely the cavern of some imponderable force ? 



236 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

Tracing effects to their cause, we come to a certain con- 
clusion that the globe could never present so ragged an 
appearace but from internal igneous eruptions. The 
combined forces of air and water on the surface would 
never have produced these vast irregularities. We see 
the effects of earth's central fire in many forms ; at 
times heaving up great streams of lava, or tearing 
wide chasms in the outward crust ; or, in a milder yet 
scarcely less destructive form, emitting from its dread 
stomach the poisonous fire-damp. 

"Look here, boy, (a little urchin was passing at the 
time,) what do you call this place ?" 

" Why, its Hoyle Mill." 

I observed two rows of stone cottages ; but all wera 
silent. There were no busy steps passing in and out ; 
no gossipping at the doors. A stranger passing this 
way might conjecture, without any previous knowledge, 
that some calamity had overtaken the inmates. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 237 



Nicholas Yak, and his Daughter. 



Chap. I. — The Old Doncaster Manors. 

Nicholas Yak had a large timber house in the 
manor of Rossington. He lived there ; and it was 
well known at Doncaster, and throughout all the dis- 
trict round that he was a man of substance. But 
nearly two centuries and a half have passed since 
Nicholas gave up the ghost, and alas ! alas ! many 
changes have occurred. As a rule ghosts must have 
good memories, with perceptions marvellously acute ; 
still if the spirit of Nick Yak could obtain a furlough, 
and follow the line of our present highway, careening 
through the air, it is very doubtful that he would re- 
cognise the place. When he lived in the flesh there 
was a great deal of land in the neighbourhood which 
was scarcely worth saying — Thou art mine. N. Y. 
knew — no individual better — how easy it was for the 
recognised villeins to retain a large holding for a mere 
nominal consideration ; in fact, for hundreds of years, 
the tenent right in this land seemed to be the only 
right undisputed. Be mannerly, reader, I know the 
meaning of that impatient gesture. You do not want 
to be bored with dry chronicles. Neither shall you, by 
me. Still it is really necessary to take a glance at the 
claimants in succession to those wide Doncaster Manors. 
The Conqueror gave them to Nigel de Fozzard (no doubt 
he was one of his own soldiers), and when this race had 
dwindled down to a single woman, King Richard gave 
her in marriage (for four hundred years, or more, the 
kings of England always thus disposed of unpro- 
tected heiresses,) to one Robert de Turnham. There 
is no evidence to shew that Robert bought her of his 
leige lord for a stipulated sum of money, although 
such transactions were not uncommon in those days. 

About thirty years afterwards, we find the De 
Mauleys in possession of the estates ; but how they ob- 
tained them does not very clearly appear. They got 



238 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

them, nevertheless ; and kept them for more than two 
centuries. True, Peter de Mauley IV. sold the manor 
of Doncaster, together with the advowson of Rossington 
for a hundred pounds to John de Warren, Earl of 
Surrey ; but only for a single life ; afterwards they re- 
verted to the Mauleys. During the close of the 16th 
and first quarter of the 17th centuries, much litigation 
went on between the Crown, the Corporation of Don- 
caster, and a family named Salvayne, of Newbiggin, as to 
the right of possession in these manors. Eventually the 
Corporation compromised Salvayne's claim for "a good 
round sum of money," and King Charles II. prevented 
all further disputes by granting a charter to the 
Borough of Doncaster. You know the sequel— for the 
fact is notorious in the history of municipalities; — how 
this ancient, unreformed Corporation " got over head 
and ears in debt," when the Rossington estate was sold 
to a rich merchant of Leeds. 

But to our narrative ; it was while this dispute with 
the Salvaynes continued, that Nicholas Yak lived 
at Rossington ; and — we cannot tell to a certainty, but 
it is very likely — he paid no rent. Nicholas was not a 
man to pay rent, or anything else, if he could get off it. 
Perhaps the reader concludes that such land was scarcely 
worth paying rent for. Well, it was not very produc- 
tive, at the best ; indeed, there were large large tracts 
which would scarcely have sustained a colony of geese. 
The valley, extending from Potteric Carr southwards, 
■was simply a morass, of little value to anybody, while 
the surrounding hills were formed of sand and gravel, 
containing, also, large boulders. Nicholas Yak never 
puzzled his head about the physical history of our globe, 
never enquired how it come to pass that there was 
here a deep, marshy basin, skirted by hills of gravel. 
No. The rounded stones, large and small, were to him 
simply boulders and pebbles — nothing else. We know, 
or think we know, how they were rounded, and how 
they came here. But all this has nothing to do with 
our narrative. Nicholas Yak lived on the high, hungry 
land, about ten acres of which he cultivated, and had 
some thousands of sheep cropping the scanty herbage 
for several miles round. Of course, a few of the old 
tups had bells fastened round their necks ; first, because 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 239 

the flocks would never wander for long together beyond 
the sound of those bells ; and, secondly, that the shep- 
herds might know where to find them. It was an old 
expedient, but very effective. Nevertheless, Nicholas 
lost a great number of sheep ; how, we may be able to 
guess, perhaps, when we have taken a glance at his 
neighbours. 

Chap. II. — The Gipsies' Camp. 

There were no hedges throughout all this locality, 
and very few stone walls, for enclosure acts had not then 
come into operation ; while trees were of so little value, 
as scarcely to be worth the trouble of felling. Old 
England possessed no " green lanes," such as are now 
deemed picturesque ; but there were little dells and hol- 
lows beautiful enough for the fairies to live in ; and dark 
woods, where it would be dangerous for young people to 
go blackberrying ; and jungles, where the hunter might 
almost lose himself in pursuit of game. 

The human population for miles round was very 
scanty ; but the scattered bipeds had few cares and 
anxieties, so that there was a repose in well-being. 
"Ah," say you, "life was i*eal then — no conventional 
sham and hypocracy — so that all God's creatures en- 
joyed a long lease of happiness." Yes, it was the 
meridian glory of conservatism. The very birds colo- 
nised in the old place from generation to generation ; 
while amongst all aristocracies there were, perhaps, 
none so numerous aud influential as the crows. Poor 
things ! it makes one feel melancholy to contrast that 
pristine condition with their present migratory fate, 
driven hither and thither, like larger aborigines, before 
the march of civilization. True, to this day crows set 
up business for themselves — begin life, as we term it — 
some in busy thoroughfares, and some in the quiet by- 
places of the world, as it suits their particular tastes, or 
hereditary bias. On the whole, it may be, they enjoy 
as much happiness as other intelligent beings, while, 
certainly, if life be a good thing, they ensure a long- 
continuance of the blessing. Moreover, as a rule, they 
do not injure the constitution by evil habits. No doubt 
there are good crows, and Bohemians ; honest crows, 



240 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

rogues, and those who are honestish. Some are quar- 
relsome, some are mercenary, some are thoroughly base. 
I do not think there was anything like the amount of 
moral obliquity about rooks of the olden time. Perhaps 
you think that circumstances make the — crow ; -and 
that, centuries ago, there were less incentives to rasca- 
lity. There may be some truth in that. Formerly, in 
building a nest, little or qo temptation presented itself 
to steal, because plenty of material might be had for the 
gathering; while no "scarecrows" were stuck up in the 
open fields to shock their moral sense, and make them 
feel like guilty things while they were picking their 
food. 

" Drat the crows !" say you. 

It is somewhat curious that this very exclamation 
should have been made two hundred and fifty years ago ; 
but under widely different circumstances. In one of 
those aforesaid dells, two women were sitting near a fire 
of sticks — sitting on the mossy ground, with their knees 
almost up to the chin. 

"S — h! lass— tr — not come. Love — sick to — 

da sc — d." 

It was a fine summer's eve, and the crows were giving 
forth a friendly benediction before they retired to rest, 
so that the two crones could scarcely hear each other 



I wi — lass to come. Sh li — 

a " 

"Eh?" 

"Drat the crows !" 

The two women, who were Gipsies ["Or pot 
hawkers?" "No, they were Gipsies." "Humph ! red 
cloaks; also huge beaver bonnets?" " Psha ! raiment 
does not make the woman. Not only had they ravan 
hair, the large black eyes, and darkish skin without a 
tinge of bloom, but the whole physiognomy was distinc- 
tive. You may point out a Jew anywhere ; you may 
anywhere recognise a gipsy "] relapsed into silence for a 
considerable time. 

Our sketch is not quite complete. At present it 
stands thus : — 

Gloaming. A Sheltered Nook, with two Gipsy 
Women sitting on their Haunches near the Fire. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 241 

What else ? Why, you know quite well, reader, that 
neither Gipsy, nor any other women, would be there by 
themselves. There is sure to be a man somewhere in 
the neighbourhood, you know. See, about twenty yards 
to the left, between the boles of two trees, which em- 
brace each other at the top, is a grassy mound, about 
three yards square. It is artificially composed of sods, 
strengthened with stakes. There sleeping is done. Now- 
a-days, when the Gipsy life is more precarious than it 
was, the tent and sleeping apartment have to be im- 
provised out of a cart-cover. It was different then. 
But where is the aperture in this mound for ingress and 
egress ? Well, it is somewhat difficult to find, owing to 
the luxuriant vegetation which clusters near the spot. 
But, look ! a little head of black tangled hair peers out, 
followed by a lithe, agile body ; and this question is 
put : — 

" Dad wants to know if th' meits anuf ?" 

"It's a mile off,' 1 replied the elder crone ; i.e., will 
not be ready until such time as he could run a mile. 

This colloquy reminds us of another object in the 
gcenery, viz., an iron pot, suspended by three poles over 
the fire, in which there was something good simmering. 

The crows were becoming less and less noisy overhead, 
as each bird settled in companionship upon his and her 
favourite twig ; the shadows of night were gradually 
deepening ; one of the Gipsy crones threw another log 
upon the crackling fire. Then, with a fierce glance light- 
ing up the eyes, she said — 

" We shall get it ; the Fates have so declared." 

The other (a younger woman) shook her head, as if in 
doubt, and gazed intently on the fire. 

But her companion commenced to chant some doggrel 
rhymes : — 

" The greedy man hoadeth his gold, 
(For thus the Fates have foretold), 
But others succeed to the pelf, 
And each one, while gratifying self, 
Distributes it far and wide : 
'Tis thus that our wants are supplied "— 

"Hark ! [z-zah !] it is the snorting of a horse. 
Listen ! — you may hear the measured tramp of a 
mounted horse. Some traveller comes this way." 

P 



242 STORIES AND SKETCHES 



Chap. III. — A Guest to Suppek. 

It was so, a horse and its rider presented themselves 
before the Gipsy camp. But when the traveller saw 
two women only, he shrugged his shoulders, saying — " I 
thought there might be hunters who had kindled a fire 
to cook their food." Then observing the steaming pot, 
he added to himself — the hags have got a stew of some 
sort ; and faith ! if it be composed of prickly-hochins 
[hedge-hogs], with boiled beetles for sauce, I should 
scarcely hesitate to partake. But it would be proper 
first to make some inquiries. 

"Ho, there, daughters of Satan ; what have jou got 
for supper ?" 

"Ask no questions for conscience sake," replied the 
elder of the two Gipsies. 

"But I am almost famished.'" 

"Then wait a bit : you are welcome to a share of 
what we can offer. It may not prove so bad as it 
seems ; anyhow you are welcome to a taste, and if it be 
not to your liking spit it out." 

The man thought within himself — Well, I might do 
that. 

Scarcely had he loosened his horse's bridle, that the 
tired beast might graze with freedom, than our traveller 
was startled by the sudden appearance of a man, spring- 
ing, as it were, out of the ground. 

"A Gipsy — that is plain ; and it is almost as clear 
that he is a villain. Fox like, the fellow will sleep 
underground all the day, and pursue his avocations in 
the night. One may read in his face that the scoundrel 
is more cunning than brave :" thus said the traveller to 
himself. 

" There may be money, or other valuables in those 
saddle bags ; anyhow the horse is worth money — Nick 
Yak would give three pounds in gold for the horse. A 
silent stab, a drug, a secret grave, and all is mine :" 
thus cogitated the Gipsy. 

But neither spoke. Honest men like plain speaking ; 
but righteousness does not yet cover the earth. It is 
not always politic to tell a man he is a scamp, although 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 243 

you may be well assured of the fact ; while, on the 
other side, it would scarcely be cvppropos to give a man 
information that you are going to murder him ; for in 
that case he might crack your skull instead. So neither 
spoke. At length, when the silence was becoming 
ominous, the elder Gipsy said — 

"The gentleman is hungry, Omfra, and will share 
our humble meal." 

" The gentleman is welcome, Zekla. No doubt he is 
tired also. A bed of sheep-skins, with a sheep-skin 
coverlet, is far better than a pillar of turf on the damp 
grass. lie would sleep safely here, as in his own man- 
sion." 

Our traveller thought not ; but he refrained from 
expressing such convictions openly. 

The kettle was tilted, and its contents poured into a 
wooden bowl of large capacity. Some bread (not the 
cleanest in appearance, nor of the finest quality) was 
portioned out upon the grass ; their guest was supplied 
with a wooden spoon, along with themselves, when each 
and all began to devour the stew. It was not bad, for 
meat greatly preponderated over vegetables. Bu b what 
sort of meat — mouldewarps and prickly-hochins ? Not 
so ; there was a full flavour of mutton about the stew, 
which caused the guest facetiously to inquire if it was 
from sheep of their own growing. But the question 
elicited no answer, save what might be interpreted from 
a prolonged grin . 

It was now their guest's turn to be hospitable, and 
(although liking him not) he asked the Gripsy if he 
would have a smoke ; for tobacco was then coming into 
use amongst the upper classes. 

Ornfra signified by an ugly grimace that to him smok- 
ing would not be pleasurable. 

Would he have a drain of brandy ? 

Yes, with many thanks : brandy was very good. 

So a leathern bottle, well filled with brandy, was taken 
from the saddle-bag ; about half a gill of the spirit was 
poured into a leather mug, the liquor being afterwards 
partially diluted with water. Ever courteous, their 
guest first offered the (loving ?) cup to the gipsy ladies. 
They quaffed. The elder crone said such liquor did 
warm the cockles of her heart. Omfra, also, took an 

p3 



244 STOKIES AND SKETCHES 

especial draught : he smacked his lips, but said nothing, 
It thus happened that by the time this vessel reverted 
into the hands of their guest, there was only a small 
drop left. The dose was repeated, with still more evi- 
dent satisfaction on the gipsy side ; but our guest sipped 
only very little, while smoking his rare Virginian weed. 
Why was he so liberal with his beverage ? Was it from 
a pure spirit of good fellowship ? Not altogether so. 
He knew that good liquor usually makes people gar- 
rulous ; and he wished to glean something of the history, 
habits, and religion of Gipsies. Scholars have hoped to 
trace the origin of this strange race from scraps of 
language peculiar to themselves ; but the evidences are 
very slight, for, unlike the Jews, they have never pos- 
sessed a distinct written language. It may be that had 
the Jews not been the repositories of sacred writ — 
which is in part a genealogy of their own race — even 
their history might now have been as obscure. In 
nearly all respects, except a propensity to trade, 
and thereby acquire money, there is a marked resem- 
blance between the Gipsy and the Jew, One very dis- 
tinguishing resemblance is, that they never assimulate 
with, or merge their individuality into, the people 
among whom they dwell. Thousands of years have 
elapsed since the command was issued — Thou shalt not 
take to wife any alien daughter, nor give thy daughter 
to an alien's son. Methinks I see some English girl 
pout her rosy lips, saying — "It is because the daughters 
would not have them." I am not quite so sure about 
that, my dear. Many a nice girl does happen to marry 
a queer sort of man, and vice versa. 

This was not the first time our traveller had fallen in 
with Gipsies ; but he had never been able to satisfy his 
mind upon two or three important points. Personally, 
he was inclined to identify Gipsies with the lost tribes 
of Israel. But surely, thought he, there must be good 
in them, supposing they spring from the loins of Abra- 
ham, who was the "Friend of God," and delegated 
Father of the Faithful. Moreover, if this pedigree is 
correct they will cherish some latent traditions of 
Israelitish precept, and Divinely appointed ordinances. 

Of their public character the guest was clearly in- 
sighted — they were a lying, theiving, treacherous, re- 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 245 

vengeful set. Still, however low in the scale of 
civilization they outwardly appear, caste, honour, and 
even high principle may exist amoDgst themselves. So 
when the bright eyes began to sparkle, with more than 
usual lustre, he (the guest) began to ask questions, and 
provoke some gipsy talk. 

" Who are you, and whence do you spring ?" 

1 1 Egypt was our home : we were of the royal 
family of Egypt." 

" Indeed." 

" Yes." 

" I was just thinking that if all of you returned to 
the father-land, there would be no fear of the throne 
becoming vacant for want of heirs. Bub what made you 
leave home, and wander like — a — like Gipsies through- 
out every part of the globe ?" 

" We were driven out by conquest."* 

1 ( You met with foes ; and so became the foes of 
every other race ?" 

There was no reply. 

" Do ycu believe in a God ; who has created all 
things ?" 

" Listen : there is the earth on which we live — I 
can see it, and feel it : this is the body of Nature. 
There are hidden forces which always are active, which 
will never cease to work. These are the Spirit of 
Nature. I believe in nothing else." 

" But you admit right and wrong ? And how can 
there be a law without a Law-giver ?" 

" There is no law but necessity, or that which springs 
from the operations of Nature. I see a sheep nibbling 
its food (what matter does it make to the animal on 
whose land it feeds) ; I, being the strongest, take it, 
because to live is a necessity : the wolf or the fox. 
would do just the same. You relish the mutton be- 
cause you are hungry. I only take what I want ; and 
the grazier has no real need for a hundredth part of the 
sheep he calls his own." 

* In 1517, Selim the Sultan conquered Egypt, when large 
numbers ©f the native population chose voluntary exile, 
rather than become subservient to the Turkish rule. It is at 
least a curious coincidence that hords of Gipsies from this 
period began to infest every kingdom of Europe, where they 
were utterly unknown before ; and from that time forward 
they have continued to live a vagrant and disreputable life. 



246 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

" With these principles the world would soon become 
all anarchy, rapine, and destruction !" 

" Certainly it is wrong ; altogether wrong. Listen 
to me. A race of men live in a great country — have 
lived there so long that the sayings and doiDgs of 
their forefathers seem to go back, even to the beginning 
of mankind. Well, a people stronger than they come ; 
kill, conquer, and reduce such as remain to slavery. 
They prosper, and make the country into a greater na- 
tion. This is right. Your God laughs at the great 
robbers, and wholesale murderers, because they are 
strong : it is only in little things that He is vindictive. 
The right is always with the might ; and men square 
the divine law according to their own wants and 
wishes." 

The guest soon saw that argument was useless ; he 
could not make the Gipsies understand that retribution 
was for nations equally with indiyiduals ; that there is 
no such thing as great and small in moral turpitude, 
for the man who would steal a farthing, with deliberate 
intent, would grasp a sceptre if he found a relative op- 
portunity. His gipsy theories received a shake, how- 
ever ; and he began now to refer these principles to a 
Brahminical origin. Still, he thought it would not be 
impolitic to hazard a personal test. So he said — 

" I have 9s. concealed in my saddle-bag ; my own 
money, and placed there for necessary expenses : sup- 
posing you were to rob me of that little store, could 
the act be justified ?" 

The Gipsy protested, in the most loquacious manner, 
that he contemplated nothing of the kind ; that he 
would rather be famished for a week than rob him. 

" Well, have a drop more brandy : you may drink 
that without compunction, because it is a gift." 

They all willingly re-imbibed. 

" Now for a song. I have heard the gipsy melodies 
spoken of in high terms, and wish to hear one." 

The half -naked urchin, from a motion which he quite 
understood, disappeared into the cave, and brought out 
a tambourine. Tilda, the younger woman, seized the 
instrument, as if she loved it. Then Omfra commenced 
a ditty which had all the signs of being impromptu . 
First of all there was a slow chaunt, led by the man, 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 247 

supported, not inharmoniously, by the two women : — 

The sunbeams are free ; 
The moonbeams are free ; 
The earth is ail free, 
For the Gips— e — e. 

Then followed a tambourine symphony, very well exe- 
cuted. 

And now it might be seen — judging from a flash 
lighting up the eye — that the melody would change . 

Omfra : We poison the sheep ; 
Zekla : And cozen the girls ; 
Tilda : And live as we list ; 
All three : Hurrah ! for the gipsy life. 
Hurrah ! for the gipsy life. 
Then, while the old woman beat the tambourine, 
Omfra and Tilda joined in a frantic dance, gesticulat- 
ing wildly, and performing such evolutions as spirits 
might do, who hardly condescend to touch the earth. 
Their guest had never before seen anything so wonder- 
ful, and confessed to himself that the sublimity of 
dancing is equal to an epic poem. 

In was now the guest's turn to furnish a song ; and 
he commenced as follows : — 
The Chieftain he sat in his chair of state ; 

For a mansion had he on a hill ; 
Through the window he looked round his large estate, 

From that mansion he had on the hill. 
But the sight of some gipsies awakened fierce hate, 
In that mansion that stood on the hill. 
(SOLUS — Those thieving varlets are here again) ! 
So he swore, and then issued his stern mandate, 

Through that mansion of his on the hill ; 
(SOLUS— I'll have the rascals hung, without trial by 

jury. I'll ) 

" Now be moderate ; the Gipsy blood is soon roused, 
and it might not be pleasant in the midst of a quaver 
to find yourself felled to the ground." 

" Talk about felling, that is a game which two of us, 
perhaps, might play at ; always supposing that the 
women will not interfere, but see fair game." 

"Well, would you like to have a turn at 'double- 
stick V I won't hurt you." 

"Yes, if you please. I won't hurt you." 



248 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

Accordingly two strong ash saplings were prepared, 
and they played, like King Richard and Robin Hood, 
for love of victory. Our traveller was an expert fence ; 
and thought in this exercise to beat the Gipsy. But 
he was mistaken. After a number of successful feints, 
the Gipsy would seize an opportunity, and deal his 
opponent a gentle tap on the head. 

Suddenly, however, Tilda came up to her champion, 
and whispered something in his ear. Then, turning to 
their guest, she said : — 

' ' Hush ! Would you like to see a maiden — rich, but 
fair ; and hear her fortune told 1 — Yes ? Then 
hide yourself awhile withOmfra." 



Chap. IV. 
A Young Damsel, and Mischief. 

Our traveller would not follow Omfra the Gipsy into 
his cave. No ; for there the rascal might take unfair 
advantage, and stab him ; so he crouched on the ground, 
under cover of the mound. It was satisfaction to know- 
that the pistols were safe within his doublet. He 
listened and looked. It was one of those nights which 
is never quite dark, for no sooner does the sun sink 
to rest than the moon begins her rule. "While the 
young man looked and listened, a few interrogatory 
thoughts passed quickly through his mind. What sort 
of a lass can this be ? It is not quite decorous for a 
proper-minded girl to be roving at this time of night. 
But allowance must be made ; perhaps she could only 
escape surveillence thus by stealth ; and I can estimate the 
power these gipsy scamps may exercise over a confiding 
maiden, who has one absorbing desire, the attainment 
of which is alone requisite and necessary to make a 
Paradise. 

At length the girl appeared in sight, advancing ner- 
vously with cautious steps, which spoke of perturbation 
in the mind. Our traveller did not get, at once, a good 
view of her face, because, with hood or drapery, the 
head was half concealed. Her feet and ancles were 
most exquisitely formed— these he could observe, being 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 249 

in a horizontal line with the eye. Her form seemed per- 
fect symmetry ; and (not to speak it profanely) volup- 
tuous ; so round and plump it was, but nowise gross. 
Her voice was musical ; it had that silver chord, which 
vibrates full and clear— just like a sweet-toned bell — 
and never jars. 

"I've brought it, Zekla." 

"What a piece of gold wrapped up with charcoal in a 
docken leaf ?" 

"Yes; it is here." 

1 ' But did you kiss the docken, and say : — Mezapy, 
happaty Kan ?" 

" Yes ; I observed it all." 

' ' Good,, sweet Sybil. Now put the charm in my 
keeping until Friday." 

"I must have it back on that day, Zekla, because 
father gave it me to purchase stuff at Doncaster, and 
I shall be going there next market-day." 

" It will be all right." 

Yes, old hag, thought the young man, it will be all 
right, so far as you are concerned ; but this maiden will 
never see her money more, unless I can compel you to 
disgorge it. 

" And now, let me see thy hand, Sybil Yak, for the 
charm will help me to resolve much of the future." 

' ' Well, here it is. But, first of all, tell me some- 
thing of the past ; for the clearing up of one mystery 
would yield more satisfaction than any knowledge of the 
future. Who was my mother ? I ask this question of 
father (if, indeed, he with whom I dwell be such, which 
I can scarcely believe), but he answers me only with 
evasive replies." 

"Thy mother had the blood of nobles in her veins ; 
and tenderly did she nurture thee." 

" My infancy is, as it were, a blank. I go back to 
the very earliest recollections, but my mother's image is 
not there ; no record of affectionate caress, or gentle 
chiding : it is all a blank. And yet, she may have 
formed my lips to speech ; watched the first essay of 
those tottering steps, and shielded me from danger." 

The elder Gipsy coughed, impatiently ; she also 
frowned. 

The stranger listened with an admiration akin to love . 



250 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

"I think sometimes, nay, such conviction grows upon 
me, that the bleak house on Rossington Common was 
not the place of my birth. They call me Sybil Yak. 
True, I owe duty to the man whose name I bear ; but 
there is no affinity of soul between us. He with whom 
I live plighted no troth at any church's altar — this fact 

is known to all. Am I then a . Tell me, who 

was my mother?" 

The Gripsy scrutanizes Sybil's hand for some moments 
in silence ; then, releasing it, says — 

' ' Thy childhood is like an open book before me. 
Miles away, there stands a grey stone mansion, sur- 
rounded by a park. There are many trees about ; and 
a deep lake in the valley below. The lord of this 
mansion is a soldier, proud and stern. The lady is very 
beautiful, and worships her husband, who is in manner 
nowise harsh to her. They have wealth, high birth, 
and all those attentions which retainers of low degree 
can render." 

" Is there a child in the house ?" 

"A daughter.'* 

" Go on, Zekla. "What does thou see further ?" 

"It is morning. A nursemaid and child wander 
towards the lake, attracted by the swans. The child is 
two years old, or rather more ; so that she has only just 
began to walk and talk. Suddenly, when near the 
pond, a dark man appears, and snatches up the child ; 
then, 'producing a weight and some rope, he begins to 
tie them round the child's neck, previous to throwing 
his burden into the lake. The maid flies in terror to 
give an alarm ; but when the lady mother comes to the 
place, surrounded by menials, there is no sign of child 
or murderer." 

"And was the daughter ever recovered ?" 

" They do not find her : the lake is dragged over and 
over again, but they do not find her." 

Sybil muttered some words, as if speaking to herself : 
— " Perhaps he only made belief to drown the child. 
' May be he carried her off instead. If all that Betsy 
(an old female servant) says be true, gipsies steal and 
traffic with children, sometimes from revenge, and some- 
times for gain. " 

' ' Betsy tells lies, child ! Gipsies do not steal bairns." 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 251 

" Well, never mind whether they do or not ; let us 
keep to the point. . I ask for information of my mother 
and you conjure up visions of a great mansion, and a 
missing child. What is all this to me ?" 

" Everything." 

11 What ! No it cannot be." 

" Thou art that child." 

The maiden stood, silently ; but the blood had a 
quicker motion through her veins. A thousand little 
circumstances rushed upon the memory, all more or 
less favouring such a startling disclosure. Was she 
not the child of a wifeless house ? Had not all efforts 
to discover who was her mother ended in total disap- 
pointment ? But internal evidence was strongest. 
Whence did those aspirations spring ? If she had been 
born of some gross serving-wench, her mind would be 
in harmony with the lot. But there was ever present 
a proud consciousness of superiority, a conviction 
that her parentage was far removed from Nicholas 
Yak. And this last consideration appeared to unlose 
her tongue, for she exclaimed — 

" And my parents ?" 

" They are still living. But I cannot go further into 
particulars on this point now. On Friday, when the 
pledge is restored, I may tell thee more." 

" And now for my future destiny." 

" Grood ; now for the future ; and first of all in 
respect to marriage. Hold thy right hand closer to the 
fire. I see. Before many moons are over thou wilt be 
married ; and in due time bear a child." 

" 0, gammon !" replied the maiden. 

"Its true." 

Sybil jerked her head, and poohed ; yet it was only 
by an effort that she could hide a smile of inward satis- 
faction. " It is easy to tell fortunes," replied the 
girl ; " but how can I believe in such predictions with- 
out an atom of proof ? You first bewilder me with 
the story of a lost child, and then prophesy a speedy 
marriage for myself. Psha ! it is easy to prophesy 
smooth things, but where is the proof ?" 

"Listen; before the clock at Eossington strikes 
twelve, a young and handsome cavalier will cross thy 
path, and whisper words of love." 



252 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

" That will be soon proved. If it should happen — 
which is very unlikely — then I might be compelled to 
believe the rest." 

'• It will come to pass." 

" Pooh ! the thing is so improbable. A young and 
handsome knight — Did'st thou not say knight ?" 

" I said cavalier." 

" Ah, well ; he is almost as precious : a strange 
cavalier, young and handsome, meeting me alone, so 
late at night : then whispering words of love ! Will 
they be true words, Zekla ?" 

4< Nay, lass, find that out thyself." 

It might be that Sybil thought herself scarcely well 
adorned to meet on intimate terms with a gay cavalier ; 
so the maiden dropped her careless hood, from under - 
neath which fell the raven locks, in wild profusion : 
these soon with nimble fingers were arranged to perfect 
order. Her pelisse was scanned ; each speck and bit 
of dirt cleared with impatient hand ; her skirt was 
smoothed down ; and next the pretty feet received in- 
spection. But, Oh, those hideous shoes, clumsy and 
greatly worn ! She turned them round and round, in 
the light of the moon. She said, half musingly — ' He 
will not mind my shoes.' 

The secret worshipper would have kissed the well- 
worn shoes, because of the treasure they contained. He 
did'nt, there and then ? No, he restrained himself ; 
but he prayed for aid to the Holy Virgin, and vowed to 
kiss those luscious lips, with heavenly rapture. In this 
matter he showed discrimination. Yes. 

And now after Sybil had given the Gipsy women an 
explicit undertaking to meet again on Friday, the maiden 
resolved to return home. A few minutes afterwards 
our traveller ventured to leave his hiding place, and 
seeing that her loved figure was scarcely distinguishable 
in the distance, he questioned the Gipsies respecting her 
route. The old hag showed him how by making a cir- 
cuit under some trees he might advance upon the maiden 
suddenly, where she would still be far from any human 
habitation. So the young man left his horse and saddle- 
bags in pledge with his entertainers, and, like a gallant 
cavalier, went forth to give escort and protection to the 
lovely girl. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE, 253 

The lovely girl just at that moment was vexed with 
herself ; indeed just then she esteemed herself as little 
better than a fool. Moreover, the Gipsy arts seemed 
very like an audacious imposture. Moreover, parting 
with that piece of gold added to her vexation ; for the 
girl had no dishonest intention, and the money was not 
hers to pledge. What had caused this strange revulsion 
of faith ? A sudden conviction that the promised meet- 
ing with a handsome cavalier was nothing better than an 
impudent deception : this shook her credit in the Gipsies' 
supernatural agency. Instead, therefore, of being alert 
to every external object, as at first, she became self- 
abstracted and gloomy, so that even a " gay cavalier" 
might almost have passed her without recognition. 
Thus our hero approached within a very few yards of 
the spot, before she became aware of his presence. But 
when Sybil did observe him, the effect was almost tragi- 
cal. She uttered a faint ciy, and would have swooned 
but that he caught her in his arms, and tenderly chafed 
the throbbing temples : her head rested upon his breast, 
and he kept that mysterious flicker of consciousness 
from becoming temporarily dead. No wonder the effects 
were so violent, when an old faith, albeit bred of super- 
stition, was being so suddenly re-established. She lay 
there, upon his bosom for a moment, after her mind 
and nervous energy were restored, for there is always a 
confiding influence in sympathetic love. He would have 
kept her there for aye ; our cavalier was not weary of 
supporting that lovely form. But true love is also 
honourable ; he would have deemed it almost profana- 
tion to steal a march on helplessness, and kiss those 
throbbing lips. 

Womanly dignity at length began to assert its power ; 
the maiden with a tremor started to her feet, and 
strove to evade his gaze. Our traveller was the first to 



" Pardon me," he said, "for occasioning such alarm ; 
but seeing a lady, unattended, at this period of the 
night, I was approaching to offer an honourable escort." 

"My thanks are due for proffered courtesy and pro- 
tection. You may well think it strange that a maiden 
should be out at midnight alone, but the fact is I had 
been keeping an appointment." 



254 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

Our traveller thought this a good opportunity of test- 
ing Sybil's character ; so he smilingly observed — 

"lam sure he cannot be worthy of such affectionate 
regard, and leave one so beautiful to return home alone. 
I would not do it." 

" You mistake me, sir ; my appointment was with a 
woman." 

" Ah, perhaps she is suffering ; and so, like an angel 
of mercy you have sped to succour. Duty thus rises 
superior to outward propriety." 

The maiden hung down her head, but did not answer. 
Being ashamed to confess the truth, she left him to ar- 
rive at whatever conclusion he desired. 

They were now dissembling, both the young man and 
the young woman ; and while this lasted there could be 
little satisfaction in communion. Certainly under pre- 
sent circumstances, Sybil had the better plea for re- 
ticence ; this fact our traveller acknowledged to himself. 
It behoved him, therefore, to begin the work of confes- 
sion. 

" Sybil," said he, " may I accompany you home ?" 

The maiden was startled. "How do you know that 
my name is Sybil ?" said she. 

"The Gipsy called you Sybil." Then he recounted 
how, as a traveller, the smoke had directed him to the 
Gipsy camp ; and how, partly from a love of adventure, 
and more to discover knavery, he had been a voluntary 
listener to what passed between them. Perhaps the 
maiden might have resented this conduct as unworthy 
of a gentleman, had she not unmasked the Gipsies' fore- 
knowledge in predicting their meeting. Furthermore, 
our traveller convinced her that these Gipsies had the 
key to her early history, and that he should never rest 
until her identity was established . So on parting near 
the abode of her reputed father, he extracted from Sybil 
a promise that she would meet him again in a certain 
place. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 255 



Chap. V. — The Mystery. 

It was long past midnight when our traveller parted 
with Sybil at the gate of Nicholas Yak. Under ordi- 
nary circumstances sleep would have been very desirable, 
for he had ridden many miles, with but a short interval 
of rest. But where was he to get it ? For that night, 
at least, he would nob take up his abode in the same 
house with the maiden ; since, if discovered, explanations 
were sure to be demanded which might prove embarras- 
sing. Not that anything had transpired on his part 
that he would have been ashamed to acknowledge ; still, 
there was a reasonable conviction in the mind that he 
ought not to lodge there without the master's knowledge. 
No, he was not cold and prudish. Inclination pointed 
one way, honour pointed the other way : but what is a 
man worth if the former proves the prevailing influence ? 
He is then a mere ephemeral thing of shreds and patches. 
The maiden would have liked him for their guest, and 
let fall a hint about calling her father up ; but the sug- 
gestion was soon quashed, for how could the fact of a 
cavalier being abroad with Sybil at midnight be ex- 
plained ? So they parted, with a mutual pledge to 
renew each other's acquaintance on the coming night. 
What ! another secret midnight interview ? Yes, it was 
so decided ; unless some unforseen circumstance should 
demand a speedier meeting. 

What did he do next, our gallant cavalier ? He 
wandei-ed dreamily, like thousands of young men have 
done, when the shadow of an angel's presence still per- 
turbs the soul — earthly angel, of course. The film of 
night appeared to grow thicker, the silver haze deepened 
gradually into a cloudy brownness, so that it became 
impossible to distinguish objects at many yards distance. 
He walked half a mile, or so, in one direction ; and 
then walked back again, afraid lest he should lose-all 
recollection of the place. At length, feeling quite jaded, 
he sat under a tree, waiting for the first gleams of the 
rising sun. But his mind was not at rest. His thoughts 
were of the maiden named Sybil, and particularly 
intent upon this mystery of her parentage. Said he to 



256 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

himself :— That old woman knows more about the mat- 
ter than she would care to acknowledge, I am sure she 
does. One of the gipsy tribe — perhaps this Omfra — 
stole the child. Rut how did she come into possession 
of the man called Yak ? It is scarcely likely that he 
would buy a child ; but one cannot tell, he might make 
some agreement with the gipsies, and adopt her as his 
daughter. 

Daylight at length broke, and not long afterwards 
an aged man came that way. He had a long stick or 
staff in one hand, and a dog followed at his heels. He 
was evidently going out to look after the sheep, and 
would have merely stared at our traveller in passing, 
had not the latter accosted him. 

" It's a fine morning." 

"Eas." 

" Are you yeoman Yak's shepherd ?" 

" Eas." 

" Have you lived here long ?" 

" Ow lived wi Isaac, Nicholas's feyther ; and all along 
sin." 

"What is this (holding up a large coin) ?" 

" A good groat. Hoo-oo !" 

" Well, it shall be yours when you tell me who was 
Sybil Yak's mother." 

The old man gave a preliminary grin and answered — 

" Mistress Soyble would gie more nor a testoon 
(shilling) to naw that. I doant naw her muther ; 
nobody does ; though I 'specs she hed a muther." 

There was no gainsaying such a conclusion, however 
unsatisfactory the information might appear. 

* ' When did you first see Mistress Sybil ?" 

"When shue wur a bairn, no heavier nor my dog." 

"But there would be a woman in the house to 
nurture her ?" 

"Aye there wur Nimble Nan : — we called her so 
'cause shue was alias trotting about." 

A bright thought struck the questioner. Next to 
her reputed father, this woman could furnish the best 
information. 

"And where is Nimble Nan ?" 

"Doant naw. Shue left here a dozen year cum 
Martlemass." 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 257 

" But has she no relations in these parts f ' 

" A bruther o' hers lives at Bawtry now ; but hauve 
niver seen Nan for years." 

" And what is his name ?" 

" Natty Benton." 

« « That will do. Here is the groat ." 

The shepherd had got what he desired, and went his 
way : our traveller had got evidence which he considered 
well worth a groat. Now he resolved to act. But 
before going to Bawtry, it was necessary to recover his 
good steed and saddle-bags, although some difficulty 
presented itself in finding his way back to the Gipsy 
camp. At length he did find the exact spot ; there was 
the mound, and there was the charred place where the 
pot had been boiled : but of Gipsies there was none. 
They had decamped, taking both his horse and saddle- 
bags. The young man said to himself — What a fool I 
have been ! He did not repine at having offered an 
escort to the maiden ; he did not regret the time passed 
in Sybil's company, all this was a precious memory ; 
but after seeing her safe at home, he ought to have gone 
straight back to where his horse was grazing. True, in 
the meantime, those rascally Gipsies might have shifted 
their quarters ; but there would at least have been a 
faint prospect of overtaking one or more of them, since 
the good steed could not carry all four, namely, Omfra, 
Zekla, Tilda, and the boy. It was fortunate that, 
while secretly listening to the old hag telling Sybil's 
fortune, our traveller had abstracted what money and 
other valuables were contained in the saddle-bags. 
Moreover, if he had not loitered when he did, it is 
probable that the slight clew to Sybil's history might 
have escaped him. That was one point gained by shilly- 
shallying. And now what was to be done ? Our young 
cavalier walked round the deserted camp, but found 
nothing there worthy of interest ; even the old iron pot 
of foreign make had been removed, or hidden in some 
secure retreat. Said he to himself — I will have justice ; 
for have I not a legal claim to get the gipsies hung ? 
Have they not stolen my horse ? Yes, and my saddle 
bags, too. I will have them hung. Then came the 
sequel (but only in imagination) ; hov.' this sentence of 
death would surely result in a voluntary confession of 

Q 



258 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

Sybil's abduction. But before all this could take place 
(the confession and the hanging) it was necessary to 
catch his victims ; no easy task when one considers that 
the gipsey scorns the nationality of a local register, and 
claims the whole world for his parish. First of all he 
must go to Doncaster, and get a wariant. He had 
passed through that town the day before on journeying 
here, and knew that Hugh Childers, who had lately 
built that fine mansion called Carr-house, would be very 
likely to assist him. So our traveller (a pedestrian now) 
left Rossington Park, with the large dark line of 
Hunster "Wood to the left, and took the hill-side route, 
verging towai'ds Cantley. It was not long before he ob- 
served the beautiful tower of Doncaster Church peering 
out of the valley. The church clock struck five just as 
the young man entered the enclosed grounds leading to 
Carr-house. It was scarcely likely that the worthy pro- 
prietor would consent to be disturbed with public busi- 
ness at that early hour ; nay it was very questionable if 
he would be out of bed. All doubt on this point was 
soon set at rest, however, by the appearance of the 
magistrate himself in riding costume with a whip in his 
hand. The stranger accosted him with that dignified 
courtesy which becometh a gentleman, and then re- 
quested a few moments' attention on public business. 
Thereupon he led our traveller into a private office, and 
then demanded the nature of his application. 

" I want a warrant to apprehend some gipsies." 

" Aye, marry, that you shall have with pleasure. 
They are a pest to the neighbourhood, and I would im- 
prison them all. Only last week I lost three fine young 
kine, the hides and fat of which I am credibly informed 
were purchased by a rich grazier not a hundred miles 
from here." 

" In that case, it may be, the receiver is equally 
culpable with the thieves." 

"Very true; but the man I allude to is not only 
rich, but cunning." 

" Do you mean Nicholas Yak ?" 

" Hem ! I mentioned no names." 

"No, but I did." 

" What do you know about Nicholas Yak ?" 

"Nothing whatever; I never spoke to the man; 
never saw him." 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 259 

"Then what right have you to make iusinuations ?" 

"Your worship's remarks suggested the conclusion. 
But we may have an opportunity of settling with this 
man afterwards ; my present business is with some 
gipsies— a tall, dark, wiry man, about forty years of 
age, named by his associates Omfra ; a young and not 
uncomely woman, his wife ; together with an old and 
vicious-looking hag called Zekla, who is evidently 
mother to one of the two. They are accompanied by a 
boy, about eight years of age, whom it will, perhaps, not 
be necessary to include in the mittimus. 

" I have had information of the lot ; they have been 
encamping for several days on Rossington Common." 

"It was there that I met with the varlets ; they 
have stolen my horse and trappings." 

"Then they shall hang for it. I will prepare the 
warrant." (Scribbles.) 

" Carr House, in the Count)/ of York, this fifteenth 

day of May, 16 — . (To Wit ) An Information 

having been laid before me, Hugh Childers, one of his 
Majesty's Justices of the Peace, by "' 

" What is your name ?" 

" Leanord Marcbraent." 

"Leonard Marchmont, of " 

" Where do you reside ?" 

"At Otley." 

" Otley, in the same county, " 

" Now, let me know all the particulars." 

The young man told him under what circumstances 
he had foregathered with the gipsies, and even partaken 
of their meal ; omitting, however, all mention of the 
interesting episode respecting Sybil. After he had 
finished, the worthy magistrate remarked, that there 
were one or two circumstances which required explana- 
tion. In the first place, if he were tired and hungry, 
why did he not lodge for the night at some respectable 
hostelrie on the road ; particularly as he must have 
passed through Doncaster ? To this our traveller re- 
plied, that he intended resting for the night at Bawtry ; 
but, impelled by curiosity on seeing the smoke, and per- 
sonally not adverse to a midnight adventure, he made 
their camp a temporary resting place. Being somewhat 

Q3 



260 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

of a philosopher he had wished to make a study of the 
gipsy character. 

"Very dangerous curiosity," replied the respectable 
Hugh Childers. Let me give you a word of advice. 
For the future, always avoid low, disreputable company. 
Youth, I know, is fond of adventure ; and it is, at 
least, a proof of courage that you trusted yourself alone 
with such a company of rascals. But further, I wish to 
ascertain whether the gipsies used any violence, or 
whether you offered any resistance to their stealing the 
horse ?" 

" I did not even see them take it away." 

"What?" 

The young man hesitated, and looked perplexed. 

" I understand, you had fallen asleep ; and did I not 
believe that gipsy women, are rarely unchaste (they have 
a Jewish pride of their race), one might infer that some- 
body had been bewitched by the dark beauty." 

The young man exhibited disgust at the bare idea of 
embracing such an object. 

"I have only to add, that it is a thousand to one 
against you ever recovering the horse. The gipsies have 
a method of colouring, and otherwise disguising an 
animal, that you could scarcely swear to it, on the nonce, 
in an open fair. The scoundrels, moreover, will be 
difficult to track. But we must do our best ; the whole 
party of them cannot by this time have escaped far. 
Two constables, well mounted, shall scour the district 
in opposite directions. Meantime it is very desirable 
that you should remain in the neighbourhood for a day 
or two. " 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 261 



Chap. VI. 
Extraordinary Coincidents. 

So far, so good. The myrmidons of the law will get 
upon those gipsies track, if they can. Meantime what 
shall I do ? Wait ? There is a chafing misery in wait- 
ing ; I, also, must help to track the rascals : thus re- 
solved our Cavalier within himself. It happened, 
singularly enough, that circumstances favoured his re- 
solution. A dirty, ragged urchin was seen to move 
suspiciously across the " Low Pastures," who, when 
observed, rushed towards the covert of some magnificent 
trees, which skirt the mansion on that side nearest 
Doncaster. There was a mutual recognition, a flight 
and a pursuit. The lad was an excellent runner, but 
his legs were short ; and it soon became evident that 
there was but a poor chance for him in a straight race. 
On reaching a fine avenue of trees, the urchin began 
dodging round and round the boles : he would have 
climbed up one of them like a cat had he not suddenly 
been caught by the left leg, and hurled to the ground. 
Kick he could not, but the little savage used his 
finger nails to some purpose : his mouth, also, was just 
closing in a terrible grip of the strong man's hand, 
when the latter seized the matted head with such a lug, 
that the urchin gave forth a yell, which must have been 
heard at Doncaster. It sounded so horribly through 
Carr House, that the serving-men, headed by their 
worthy master, rushed to the place, anticipating nothing 
less than murder. 

■'Ho ! ho !" said worshipful Hugh Guilders, "What, 
is this one of them ?" 

"This is one of them ; a true scion of the parent 
stock." 

" Then the two women mentioned in the deposition 
will not be far away. This lad has evidently been em- 
ployed as a spy on your movements. Still, I don't be- 
lieve that we have any authority to detain him," said 
the worthy magistrate. 

"But look at my hands : surely they are evidence of 
an assault." 



262 



STORIES AND SKETCHES 



"On his side, it maybe pleaded that what he did 
was only in self-defence. You pursued him ?"' 
" Yes." 

".And seized him by the leg ?" 

"Right. But is he not a very Imp of Darkness ; a 
vagrant rascal ; and taught every false way 2" 

" Ha ! ha ! Yes ; I think we may safely lock him 
up as a rogue and a vagabond." 

"Permit me to suggest," said our cavalier, "That 
you lock the urchin up in one of those strong rooms at 
Carr House. 

" What, turn my mansion into a jail ! You are very 
reasonable, worthy sir." 

"I have a special reason for the request." 
" I see ; you imagine the gipsies are not far off ; so 
that an attempt will be made to communicate with, 
and perhaps rescue, the lad in the night." 

This supposition was strengthened by the fact that 
when the urchin found resistance unavailing, he gave 
one of those sharp, shrill whistles, which travels so far. 
The little demon liked not the idea of captivity ; he 
kicked and struggled with all his puny might, until 
three strong men seized his legs and anus ; thus carry- 
ing him off triumphantly. 

Worthy Hugh Childers laughed immoderately. Said 
he, "If the elder gipsies display as much pluck in 
proportion to their strength, it will be no easy task to 
capture them." At length the urchin was safely locked 
up in a small room or office on the gi*ound floor attached 
to Carr House. The door was strong, and the window 
was small ; so there appeared but little prospect of his 
getting out. Our traveller then borrowed a horse, on 
the plea of tracking the gipsy women ; intending, 
meanwhile, to discover, if possible, another woman, 
known by the soubriquet of Nimble Nan. 

On his journey to Bawtry our Cavalier forsook not 
the highway, which, being a good trunk-road from 
London to the "north countrie," was much frequented. 
At one time he overtook a sturdy yeoman, on an ambling 
nag, with bis jocund wife on the pillion behind. Tbere 
was a courteous greeting ; and the good dame smiled 
complaisantly, with her loving arm round a honest 
breast. By«and-bye a distant horn is heard, and the 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 263 

Royal Mail comes dashing past. Who could resist the 
impulse to trot alongside those gallant " bays." Not 
our young traveller, assuredly : he kept their paces for a 
mile or so, ever and auon exchanging some opportune 
remark with the coachman, and the gentleman on the 
" box-seat." At length a pleasant little town appears 
in sight ; when our traveller, mainly to collect his 
thoughts for the business on hand, lagged behind, 
and so let the mail-coach precede him to the change- 
house. Not long afterwards, a pedestrian came in 
sight, who, judging from his costume and sedate 
manner, any one would conclude to be a priest. Our 
traveller made obeisance, receiving a comfortable bene- 
diction in return. Then, thinking his reverence would 
know if any such person resided in the neighbourhood, 
he said — 

" I am very desirous to find one Nancy Benton, 
better known by the cognomen of ' Nimble Nan.' " 

" A worthy woman. She is not nimble Nan now, 
however ; having had a severe paralytic stroke, some 
months ago." 

" Has this stroke taken away the use of her speech ?" 

" No. Her left arm, and also the left leg are 
seriously affected ; but her speech is nimble as ever." 

" Good." 

His reverence looked at the young man suspiciously." 

" Do not misunderstand me, reverend father ; I do 
not mean that the affliction is good, but feel thankful 
that I can after all gain conversation with the woman. 
There is a pent up secret on which she may be able to 
throw some light." 

His reverence looked at the young man enquiringly ; 
but failed to elicit further confidence. The priest did 
not obtrude his curiosity, thinking, no doubt, that 
Nancy Benton would confide in him, should the secret 
be of particular interest. So he merely furnished the 
woman's address, and they parted. 

On arriving at Bawtry, our traveller was surprised 
to find that a fair was being held that day, for the sale 
of merchandise and cattle : it was very throng ; so that 
when he rode into that famous hostelrie, the Crown, 
almost every stable was full. On reconnoitering one 
of the latter, to see if they could squeeze another 



264 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

animal in, one of the horses became strangely restless. 
It turned its head ; it danced ; it whinneyed, as if 
under the influence of a mental aberration. The ostler 
spoke angrily, and was proceeding to strike the quad- 
ruped with a hay-fork, which happened to stand in the 
corner, when our traveller stayed his hand. "Gently," 
said he, ' ' except that it had no white heels, and that 
its tail was longer, I should swear that this nag was 
an old acquaintance. It very much resembles an old 
favourite, which I have lost." The speaker went up, 
and patted it on the back ; at which the horse shewed 
unmistakable signs of joy. " Faith ! I believe it is 
Charlie ;" whereupon the nag rubbed its nose against 
his master's breast, as much as to say — " To be sure, 
its Charlie. Didn't you know me ?" 

"Fetch a pail of water and sponge," said our cava- 
lier to the ostler. It was brought. " Now," said the 
former, " sponge one of the horse's heels." 

No sooner was the water vigorously applied than a 
white pigment began gradually to dissolve. 

" There, that will do. Now tell me who brought the 
horse here." 

"A dark, gipsy-looking man. I believe he is even 
now in the kitchen, with a neighbouring farmer, trying 
to bargain." 

11 1 will give a shilling providing you do not lose sight 
of that gipsy until I return." 

In a few minutes our cavalier came back, attended 
by a constable ; but the man pointed out as owner of 
this horse was certainly not that Omfra with whom we 
have formed acquaintance. Still, he evidently belonged 
to the gipsy tribe, and must answer how he became 
possessed of the quadruped. So our traveller, turning 
to the constable, said, " I give this man in custody for 
attempting to dispose of a stolen horse, with intent to 
defraud me, the rightful owner." 

The gipsy protested that the horse was honestly come 
by, so far as he was concerned ; whereupon he attempted 
to raise a tumult, but two or three " Crown" servants, 
assisted by the constable, very soon lodged him in 
Bawtry jail. On returning to the inn our traveller 
ordered a gallon of best beer for those who had assisted 
in the capture, and took a "long pull" himself at the 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 265 

black-jack by way of good fellowship ; then went forth 
to visit Nancy Benton, alias Nimble Nan. Now there 
were (and are now, I believe) almshouses at Bawtry 
Spital, for two poor widows, who receive, in addition to 
cottage shelter, 20s. a year for sustentation. The priest 
had mentioned to our young friend that Nancy was one 
of these recipients, and from all accounts she was a very 
worthy object of charity. Who would refuse God's 
blessing to the memory of that benevolent man who was 
thus mindful of the poor. Our cavalier, had he been 
a Catholic, would have said a paternoster there and 
then for the repose of his soul. But being of the Re- 
formed Creed, he simply and silently reverenced his 
memory. Nancy occupied one of these cottages ; and 
the old woman was evidently dependant on some 
friendly or neighbourly help for means of locomotion. 
At present she was propped up in an easy chair ; but 
there was no one with her. Our traveller, always kindly 
disposed towards the afflicted, made various personal 
enquiries, and received a detailed account respecting 
how "she was took," and what she had suffered. By 
degrees he came round to the subject on his mind, say- 
ing— 

"0, bye-the-bye (it is invariably * Bye-the-bye' 
when anything verv important is coming) I met with 
Sybil Yak, lately." 

"Bless her pretty face ! I hear she has grown up 
into a winsome woman ; indeed, she was the dearest 
and handsomest child that ever was born." 

" Aye ; she came of a gentle race." 

" Sir, do you know her kindred ?" 

"Do you know her parentage? Tell me all you 
know of Sybil's infancy, and I will tell you all I know 
of Sybil's history ; then, between us, we may be able 
to restore the stolen child to the home of her birth." 

"Did you say stolen child ?" 

" Yes. You remember who brought her to the 
motherless home of Nicholas Yak." 

" It happened in this way. I had been to look after 
some chickens ; and, on coming back to the kitchen, 
found a little child running about on the floor. Said I 
to myself, ' Whei'e can this bairn have come from ? ' 
There was no one else in at the time, and the little 



266 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

thing had got her head to a bread loaf— I ought to say 
that we had been baking, and some of the loaves were 
reared up on the floor. 'Poor little dear!' said I, 
'thou wants something to eat.' So there and then I 
made a sop ; and didn't the child relish it ? Just at 
that time, voices were heard at the further door ; and 
peeping out, I saw Mister Yak put money into the hands 
of a gipsy woman." 

"Would you be able to identify this woman, if she 
were brought before you now V 

" Yes, I think so ; although fourteen or 6fteen years 
may have altered her appearance. I should know her 
again, nevertheless." 

" Were there any marks about the child's person that 
one could swear by ?" 

"No; her body was free from speck or stain. I 
preserved a little silken belt, on which some letters are 
embroidered ; and also a coral toy, which was taken 
from the bosom of her dress." 

" Have you these articles in possession now ?" 
!' I have ; and shall never give them up." 
" Except, on the strongest evidence, Sybil's father or 
mother should claim thetu." 

" God speed that, in his own good time !" 
"The time will come, Nancy. Before many days are 
over, I hope to bring you face to face with this very 
gipsy woman who stole the child ; we must then trust to 
circumstances for a full confession." 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 267 

Chapter VII. 
A Gleam op Ltght ; but very little Comfort. 

Our traveller sent the horses on to Cai-r-bouse, both 
his own, which had been so singularly recovered, and 
the nag he had borrowed. The constable took them ; 
and that functionary thought within himself that this 
young man must be a person of distinction to obtain 
the loan of 'Squire Childer's horse. The messenger 
was instructed to say that Mr. March ment would him- 
self follow in the morning. You can guess, reader, 
why he did not return at once to Carr-house : there 
was the appointment with Sybil Yak. But after ex- 
periencing all this fatigue and excitement, for nearly 
thirty hours, the physical energies gave way ; so that 
sleep became an absolute necessity. The hostess at the 
Crown Inn said he would not be able to sleep there, 
with such a perpetual noise underneath ; he vowed 
that, just then, he could sleep like a top, anywhere : 
at all events, he was anxious to try ; and thereupon 
retired to a snug little bed-room on the top storey. 
He did sleep, tor several hours, until the room became 
clouded in the shadows of night. The inmates of the 
Crown were puzzled to know why he whs getting up 
when they were rsady to retire. Still, the explanation 
sounded very feasible ;— he expected to track one or 
more of those gipsies, who might communinate 
with or attempt to rescue their companion in the 
night. This was partially true ; inasmuch as the duty 
would be delegated by him to a constable (with the aid 
of one or two other persons, whom he might pay for 
watching), while he kept another and very interesting 
appointment. 

Sybil was not at the appointed place ; our cavalier 
waited upwards of an hour, which to him, under the 
cir3umstances, seemed an age, but still she did not 
come ; so he resolved to reconnoiter the dwelling of 
Nicholas \ak. No suspicion crossed his mind that the 
maiden was unfaithful (unfaithful to her promise) ; no, 
some unforseen circumstance must have prevented her 



268 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

keeping the appointment. Before be reached the house, 
a gleam of light through a chink in the window-shutter 
shewed that semebody was up. Could it be Sybil with 
an unexpected friend ; or was Nicholas Yak carousing, 
or doing business with a suspicious visitor. Approach- 
ing nearer, angry tones were heard coming from a 
female voice, which, certainly was not Sybil's. Now, 
under ordinary circumstances, the 'young man would 
have scorned to skulk and listen ; but he entertained 
an unfavourable opinion respecting Nicholas ; and hoped 
to get some influence over the man, which he could 
afterwards use in Sybil's favour. 

" I tell you, the lass is over head and ears in love 
with him :" thus screeched the alto. 

' ' Well, then, she must scramble out ; sooner the 
bettei :" thus rumbled the bass. 

" That's easily said ; — give him up, and think no 
more about him. But, let me tell you, the young man 
will not give her up, until he finds out where she was 
born. I, like a ninny, dropped some hints in his hear- 
ing about her parentage." 

" The d— 1 you did !" 

" Yes, more than you ever learnt." 

" Look here, Zekla [our Cavalier almost shouted in 
triumph at the name ; but reflection checked the rising 
exclamation, and he listened with still greater eager- 
ness] ; I never could quite understand why you brought 
that bairn to me, and insisted so strongly that I should 
never part with her. "What was the motive for all this ?" 

" Vengence. Her father once caused a son of mine 
to be hung : — now you have it." 

" I thought that gipsies did not do things by halves : 
revenge would have been complete by sending a child's 
corpse to the parents."' 

" So you think. The sudden evidence of death is 
sharp. Granted. But time deadens the stroke. Now 
the anxiety alternating between hope and fear, ending 
in despair, this is ceaseless misery. Sybil's parents 
will go down to their grave with the doubt unresolved. " 

The secret listener thought differently : at least 
such a result would not be if he could prevent it. 

" We understand one anothei*," said the bass voice ; 
1 ' there are matters between your tribe and me, which 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE 269 

none of us would like to ha?e exposed. You might 
bother me, and I could get you hung." 

"But supposing you betrayed one of us, and managed, 
yourself, to escape the law ; what would the cravan life 
be worth ? Not ten week's purchase." 

"Who talks about betraying? Do you think I 
would give Sybil up, even if the name and residence 
of her parents were known to me. No. I should feel 
the parting with her now as much, almost, as if she 
were, indeed, my own daughter." 

" Then watch her carefully, so as to prevent, in 
future, all midnight or other meetings with the 
Cavalier." 

" Trust me for that. And now have a mouthful 
of meat and bread, and a drink of beer before you go." 

" I have no objections to drink a mug of beer, and 
carry away a " slive " of meat and bread in my wallet ; 
but look sharp, for there are some miles to walk be- 
fore day light." 

Yes, thought the listener ; and in a different direc- 
tion, perhaps to what she will desire ; then he walked 
some distance, to the cover of a wide-spreading tree, 
keeping the door in sight, and waiting for her appear- 
ance. Presently she came out, and our cavalier followed 
the old gipsy stealthily for about a quarter of a mile ; 
rightly supposing that if he had confronted her at first 
she would have returned to Nicholas Yak's house, while 
he himself might have received a rougher greeting than 
could be desired. Now, however, there was no fear ; so 
he quickened his pace, and very soon accosted the 
gipsy by name. Zekla, old as she was, prepared her- 
self for a run ; and would, probably, have escaped him 
in one of those tangled passes of the Common, which 
she knew so well, and he did not. Our cavalier was 
convinced that argument and persuasion would be 
useless ; so presenting a pistol to her breast he said — 

"Do you see this ?" 

" I see." 

"Well, it is loaded ; and I shall feel no more com- 
punction about burying the charge in that treacherous 
heart than in shooting a wild cat." This was mere 
braggadocio. Had it been the devil incarnate in the 
shape of a woman, he would not have raised his hand 
against her. He told her to walk quietly by his side ; 



270 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

but when the old woman inquired the direction, and 
found that their destination was Doncaster, she scowled. 
A tremor of fear ran through her veins on hearing that 
their boy was already in custody at the same place. 

"Sir Knight," said the old woman, "you are very 
cruel to the poor gipsies, who did our best to entertain 
you. Is it for the loss of your horse V 

"My horse has been recovered," replied the young 
man; "albeit in a somewhat mutilated condition. It 
is not for that." 

"I have made a great mistake." 

" A great many, no doubt ; but to what do you 
allude ?" 

" To Sybil Yak, who is very beautiful ; and fit to 
consort with the best. You know now who she is not, 
and feel a great interest to know who she is." 

" A witch could not have prophecied better. Tell 
me the real parentage of this maiden ; from whom she 
was stolen ; then, when this fact is established, you and 
your clan shall go free." 

Yes, she would tell all ; she would give a true and 
particular account of everything relating to Sybil ; and 
forthwith began in a voluble, but not very coherent, and 
far from convincing manner, to state the circumstances. 
"One day," said she, "we were in Nottinghamshire, 
near a town called Worksop, where there is a large 
mansion, and a stream of water runs alongside the 
grounds ; only, it is not a pond or lake, but a river. 
A nurse-maid and child came down towards the bank, 
when a gipsy, who is now dead, seized the girl, and 
acted as if he would drown her ; but instead of that she 
was carried off, and sold to Nicholas Yak." 

" Had Yak engaged you to steal this child ?" 

"More than once before, he asked us to capture a 
'she-bairn,' who might be to him as a daughter and a 
companion." 

"And I dare say that, with all his faults, this man 
has begun to regard the maiden with something like a 
parent's fondness." 

" He will not part with her, willingly." 

"Once or twice, on my way through Sherwood Forest, 
I have had occasion to pass through this said town of 
Worksop but do not remember seeing any river near 






RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 271 

that place ; I believe there is no river in the neighbour- 
hood ; but this point can very soon be ascertained.* 
Now listen attentively. I am firmly convinced that this 
maiden, when a little child, was stolen from her parents ; 
moreover, that you either stole her yourself or know all 
the particulars, and to whom she belongs. It is of no 
use beguiling me with lies ; for the law shall be rigo- 
rously applied, unlpss the true parentage of the lady 
is revealed. Let me remind you that the truth cannot 
long be concealed. Who was it that caused one of your 
own sons to be hung ?" 

The gipsy woman gave a sudden start ; and even in 
the dusky night our cavalier could perceive her eyes 
glaring upon him like a tigress. 

" You see," he continued, "I have got at one motive 
for abducting this child ; and may be able to discover 
all we want to know without your aid ; but it would 
save both cost and delay if my questions were answered 
truthfully ; besides which, none of the parties concerned 
would like to have all the particulars made a subject of 
public gossip." 

" If I tell the whole truth, will you then let me go 
free ?" 

" Not until the truth of your statement is established ; 
after that I promise for myself, and can, also, certify 
for the rest, that no evidence shall be be brought against 
you." 

The old woman stated her position very clearly. 
" If," said she, " I give information which is proved to 
be true, what will it advantage me ; since, once in 
custody, the law must take its course ? ' 

Our cavalier argued the matter thus : — "You know 
all about Sybil Yak, her parentage, and the position in 
society to which she is entitled ; tell me what you know, 
and no evidence respecting her abduction, or the theft 
of my horse, shall be sustained against either yourself or 
your gang." 

" How can this be, when you have already preferred 
a charge of horse-stealing ?" 

" Well, if I refuse to give evidence, who shall say 
that this horse, which has been received, was stolen ; 

* A small river, called the Ryton, does flow past the town of 
Worksop. 



272 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

or, indeed, that it was ever my property. The question 
rests now in a nut-shell— Will you consent to be locked 
up in a safe place, until I have'ascertained the truth of 
what you may divulge, with the privilege of being libe- 
rated the moment I am satisfied, or tell me nothing but 
lies, and submit to the consequences ? Brave it out, if 
you will ; but be sure of this, that no effort on my part 
shall be spared to discover the parentage of Sybil Yak." 
After considering for a few moments, the old hag 
replied^ " I will trust you ; knowing that a true gentle- 
man will always hold his word and honour sacred. 
There was a deadly enmity existing between our tribe 
and the lord of Heath Hall, in the neighbourhood of 
Wakefield." 

"What is his name ?" 

" Faber. It is quite true, as you surmised, that he 
caused one of my sons to be hung." 
" How was that ?" 

Never mind the cause ; he did it. For weeks we had 
been watching for some opportunity of revenge ; and 
when the child came, Molko, who is now dead, seized 
her, and sold her to Nicholas Yak : there she is now. 
When you learn from Squire Faber that he lost an only 
daughter, in the manner described, nearly seventeen 
years ago, you will have abundant evidence of Sybil's 
parentage. I have no more to say." 

So they walked on for a mile or two, meeting with 
nothing but whin bushes, with here and there a solitary 
tree ; and hearing nothing but the tramp of their own 
feet. How subtile are the influences of association . In 
the still night, our cavalier began to indulge reminis- 
cences of his friend Billicot's new poems, one of which, 
entitled "Evening Reveries on the Outskirts of a 
Town," engaged a strong hold upon his memory. He 
repeated to himself, over and over again, the opening 
lines, so full of bold imagery, and rich poetic fervour : 
The night is all serene , no thunder roars, 
Pealing its solo bass and fugue athwart 
The gloom profound ; no vivid lightning's flash 
Rips Nature to her core, and rocks the world ; 
The merry tribes of woodland's vocal choir, 
Whose wildest warblings sweetest melody, 
Have left the haunts of men and fled to rest ; 
And, save the solemn squeak of sickly pig, 
No sound is wafted on the balmy air ; 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 273 

Or, ever and anon, the Bantam Sire, 
Awakened by the snoring of his dames, 
Starting, he thinks some rival foe is near, 
And crows defensive cock-a-doodle-doos." 

The road into Doncaster appeared moderately well- 
kept, as it behoved to be, by an ancient Corporation, 
with an income of several hundred pounds a year ; but, 
except in the immediate neighbourhood of Carr-house, 
there was scarcely a tree to be seen . Having descended a 
gentle eminence, they were confronted by a stone-cross, 
which seemed to beseech all passers-by to pray for the 
soul of somebody, whose name was inscribed round the 
pillar. Neither of them uttered so much as an Ave 
Maria; but the young man said within himself — "I 
do not know who the old sinner was ; but one thing is 
certain, if he attended not to his own salvation while in 
life, a million muttered prayers can avail him nothing 
now." This was sufficient evidence that, although a 
Royalist, in a ticklish time, he was still a genuine Pro- 
testant. Just then a solitary watchman tinkled a little 
bell, and said or sung at intervals his ditty — " Hafe-a- 
past two, and a-varry-fine nighfc." Now, although 
young in years, our traveller was not a novice in ex- 
perience. His first impulse was to attract the watch- 
man's notice by a sharp whistle, or a shout ; but, 
thought he afterwards, "If we hasten towards him, he 
may apprehend personal danger, and fly." So they 
advanced timidly. 

" This woman consents to be locked up." 

" The duce she does : there's not many in that frame 
of mind. What charge do you bring against her V 

"At present, none. But if she can be kept in safe 
custody for twenty-four hours, there will be two shillings 
forthcoming at the end of that time ; in proof of which 
here is a groat as earnest-money." 

"I can keep her safely," replied the watchman ; so 
they went to the house where he dwelt, and the woman 
was locked up in a strong-room. 



K 



274 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

Chapter VIII. 
Discovered at Last . 

A great mistake had been made — the young man 
ought to have sent Charlie (his horse) on to Doncaster, 
instead of to Carr-house : he could see this now. A 
horse he must have, and that speedily ; but here was 
the difficulty — nobody in Doncaster, at that time of 
night, would trust a perfect stranger with a nag. How 
was it likely ? Marchmont had a half-formed resolution 
to call them up at the Sun and Bear ; but soon perceived 
that such an application would be fruitless, without 
either security (good substantial trunks) or references. 
True, he had just money enough left to pay for a post- 
chaise, with relays of horses for one change ; but then 
he might want his fifty shillings, or so, for a greater 
emergency. All this passed through our Cavalier's 
mind, at the watchman's door, quicker than we have 
been able to read it. He must get Charlie ; and a con- 
jecture suddenly arose that the groom might lodge in 
some cottage of his own, apart from Carr-house. 
Luckily, in enquiring of the watchman, he found that 
it was so ; Jemmy Jagger lived in a cottage not far from 
Hop-cross-Hill. This functionary recognized our gentle- 
man at once, but what with the difficulty in persuad- 
ing Jeramy to let the horse go, and the time occupied in 
getting Charlie ready (for he must needs have a good 
feed of corn before starting), the clock struck five when 
our traveller was trotting over the Frier's Bridge, in a 
straight direction for Barnsdale, and so onward towards 
Wakefield. But he rested for nearly an hour at Ponte- 
fract, and went forth to look at that strongest of all 
English castles, which even now towered aloft on its 
rocky elevation, a magnificent ruin. 

We shall leave young Marchmont to continue his 
journey, and turn our attention to a certain mansion 
on Heath Common, near which the Calder glides so 
peacefully. 

" I dreamt that we had wandered on to a great 
moor, where there were many snakes." 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 275 

" Ugh ! — snakes." 

11 Now hear me, Arthur. The surface was almost 
covered with flowering heather, and tufts of the 
cotton-rush, and bushes of gale. Still there were open 
patches were nothing grew but moss ; and, oh ! the 
colours were most beautiful — red, and green, and 
purple, with varying shades of grey. Only, I noticed 
that here, where no heather flourished, the ground seemed 
very sponge-like, so that anyone passing over it \sas in 
danger of sinking." 

" I have been bogged in such places more than once, 
when pursuing the black-cock. So far thy dream was 
literally true." 

" But are there not many snakes there ?" 

" Plenty ; and vipers, also, and scorpions."' 

" Presently a little rabbit began frisking and hopping 
about ; when one great ugly serpent, with open mouth, 
was ready to devour it." 

" It was only a rabbit." 

" And yet the little thing appeared to me a symbol 
of innocence needing protection. I flew to rescue it, 
and just at that moment the figure of the rabbit 
seemed to change into a little child, with the very 
features of our dear lost daughter. Nearer and nearer 
came the reptile's head; when suddenly, some unseen 
hand advanced to snatch the child away. I called, 
and waited, but she never came back." 

The husband and father moved towards the window, 
to hide an uneasy face ; but not many moments elapsed, 
before a horseman came in view, with his steed all 
covered with foam : he dismounted at the Hall door. 
'Squire Faber was prepossessed with the young man's ap- 
pearance, so that when the servant appeared to say 
that a gentleman, named Marchmont, requested an in- 
terview, our traveller was ushered into the library, and 
not kept waiting long. 

The visitor said : " I do not ask any pardon for this 
intrusion, because my mission is important :" then he 
paused. 

The master looked into the young man's eyes en- 
quiringly ; but finding in them nothing but truth, he 
said, with only a slight tinge of acerbity. Please ex- 

£3 



276 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

plain to what important circumstance are we indebted 
for the honour of your visit ?" 

" Sir," he replied, " you had once a daughter." 

The statement was as positive as it was abrupt. 
But the proprietor thought within himself : — How can 
this stranger have become acquainted with the fact, 
seeing he would only be a boy when our child was lost? 

"Well?" 

" She lives." 

At first, the effect produced upon the listener had 
been stifled ; there was just one spasmodic movement 
of the eyes, and nothing more. But now the strong old 
'Squire grasped the young man's arm. " Do not trifle 
with me," said he. " Can you prove this ?" 

" I have forced a secret from an old gipsy woman, 
who sold the child. I have talked with an aged serving 
vroman, who received her then, and tended her for 
years. I have conversed with your daughter, and given 
my pledge never to rest uutil her true parentage was 
discovered. I know how she has passed for another 
mau's child through all these years, and where the 
beautiful maiden is living now." 

The 'Squire relaxed his grasp : but there was an all- 
ot mingled anxiety and doubt upon his noble face. 
Slid he : " After so much time has elapsed, how can 
the child's identity be established ?" 

" To my mind clearly enough. I have got at the 
motive for her abduction." 

"What is it?" 

" Let the memory go back some eighteen years. Did 
you ever cause a gipsy youth, for some offence, to be 
hunp: ?" 

"I did." 

" What was it for ?" 

" Sheep-stealing. He was not the only one in that 
gang guilty of such depredations ; but my keeper 
ciught him in the act of carrying a "shearling" away. 
The rascal was convicted for the theft, and hung." 

" These gipsies have strange notions of justice. 
The .mother of that young man undertook to revenge 
his death : because you robbed her of a son, she 
robbed you of a daughter. She, with the assistance of 
one or two others, kidnapped, and sold the child." 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 277 

" Say you so ?" 

Our Cavalier nodded. 

" But can you prove it ?" 

He nodded again. 

" Then she shall hang too." 

"No, that cannot be. The old woman, before ren- 
dering a true confession, made me promise that neither 
she nor her accessaries should suffer for this crime. I 
promised for myself (and there was something to pardon 
on another score) ; I promised, also, for you. To that 
pledge must be dated the pleasure of this interview, 
and the prospect of a speedy re-union with your 
daughter." 

'• Society will be well rid of such predatory vermin !" 

"True, but T promised, as aforesaid ; and my honour 
is concerned in obtaining the same pledge from you." 

" What, if I shall refuse the condition ?" 

"Then I should be a perjured man to pursue the 
inquiry further." 

" Sir, you put the question forcibly ; knowing that 
the restoration of an only child is infinitely more im- 
portant to me than the punishment of a dozen rascals." 

"Personally, I can have no interest in prolonging 
liberty to those gipsy thieves ; but my pledge must be 
regarded." 

" Well, we will decide upon this matter at the proper 
season. Allow me to introduce you to my wife ; and, 
what must be of far greater importance, to a substantial 
breakfast ; for, although the day is still young, I dare 
say you have travelled many miles." 

"About twenty-five. For myself I ask for nothing ; 
but there is an old friend outside who really does stand 
in need of refreshment." 

"Right ; your steed should claim our first attention." 
So they both went outside to look at Chaidie ; and the 
Squire made some remarks about the horse's mane and 
tail, which were not very complimentary. 

"Were it not for these blemishes," said he, "one 
might travel a long way without seeing so fine looking a 
horse. Quarters good (walking round the animal) ; and 
what muscular thighs ! A capital chest, deep rather 
than broad: hei'e, you see, there is capacity, which will 
allow sufficient play to the vital organs. The neck, 



278 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

also, is beautifully formed, tapering so finely towards 
the head. Still, the head is well set on ; and the 
nostrils are all that can be desired. I always like a 
horse for speed with a fine, open nose ; since, in hard 
trotting, or galloping, the animal breathes almost en- 
tirely through its nose. Barring the hair, I have not 
seen a finer horse for some time. Can he jump V 

"Jump ! — I will lay a wager that you shall stand 
near a gate, with your hat on ; or twenty men your 
height, all in a row, and Charlie clears the beaver, with 
something to spare." 

"I believe he's a good horse." 

"He is, I think." 

" No vice in him ?" 

"Not a bit; although full of spirit. With a kind 
word, Charlie would go on, aDd on, until he fairly dropped 
through exhaustion." 

" The horse must be well cared for while he remains 
here. Permit me to lead him round to the stables ; then 
you can give all necessary directions to the groom." 
The young man could easily perceive that his host was 
especially interested in horse flesh . As tbey were going 
to the stable, Squire Faber said : — 

" Do you think that horses are endowed with any 
special or superhuman faculties ?" 

" No ; I should say that all their perceptions are 
derived from the usual five senses." 

"I am not certain ; but it appears to me that they 
have either some intuitive impressions of danger, or else 
that the organs of seeing, hearing, and smelling are far 
superior to ours." 

" In them, no doubt, the senses are more acute." 

" One dark night, many years ago, I was riding over 
a great common, and had lost my way — it was so dark 
that I could not see a tree twenty yards off ; and under 
these circumstances thought it best to give my horse the 
rein, at the same time urging him on, in hopes that he 
would soon land me at a human habitation. At length 
the horse came to a full stop ; but kept sniffing and 
snorting. 'Come, my lad,' said I, 'push along,' but he 
would not go further ; so I got off, and advanced a pace 
or two, with the bridle in my hand ; but presently found 
myself sinking in a deep pit, and had it not been, just 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 279 

then, that the horse went backward, and thus allowed 
me to recover foothold, I might have been maimed, or, 
at least, been miserably entrapped." 

"How so ?" 

"Well, I found afterwards that a number of deep 
pits had been dug; then covered over lightly with twigs 
and earth, so that the deer might fall in and be captured. 
Thus, you see, a horse can discern those treacherous 
places, when I could not." 

The lady of Heath Hall was still seated at the break- 
fast table when her husband and his guest entered the 
room . 

" Nelly," said the master, "let me introduce you to 
Mr. Marchmont, who is the bearer of news which will 
deeply interest both you and me." 

The lady rose, and curtsied gracefully ; when our 
traveller could not help remarking to himself what a 
kind and amiable woman she was. Woman, as a rule, 
can read a man's character at the first glance ; and 
whenever she thus forms a decided opinion, in nine 
cases out of ten the estimate will be correct. The guest 
was happy. All unsophisticated men, and young men 
in particular, are in paradise while enjoying true 
womanly appreciation. Thus it was that our Cavalier 
felt unspeakably happy when this fine, motherly lady 
smiled him to her side, and pressed him to eat of 
everything that there was upon the table. This was no 
formal courtesy ; he was welcome. And yet neither 
host, hostess, or guest were much inclined to talk. The 
young man felt a satisfactory gladness that Sybil had 
real parents such as these ; the Squire saw that, so far 
as the messenger was concerned, there was no impos- 
ture in his faith ; the lady speculated about the nature 
of this embassy, and kept repeating to herself the hus- 
band's words : — " News which will deeply interest both 
you and me." At length, when the repast was ended 
Squire Faber turned to his wife and said : — 

"My love, this gentleman has brought a me'ssage 
respecting our daughter, who, he says, is alive." 

" Then Grod has heard my prayers," replied the lady. 
•'Every day since she was lost, have I prayed that the 
Almighty would tell us, before we died, if He had 
taken her to himself ; but if she was still somewhere in 
this world, that we might see her again." 



280 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

" Your prayer is now being answered," replied the 
young man. 

" I fear it will be impossible, after so many years, 
to establish her identity." 

"That is what I say," observed the father. 

"Why, she will be now quite a woman. Do you 
perceive any resemblance between us and the lady whom 
you suppose to be our daughter ?" 

" Madam, from personal resemblance alone you 
would be convinced that she is your daughter. But I 
have stronger proof than this." 

Then the master of Heath Hall, turning to his wife 
said, "Cherish not too much hope; then the disap- 
pointment cannot be very bitter. It will be necessary 
to investigate the matter thoroughly ; and to this end 
permit me to ask in how short a time you will be ready 
to accompany us in a coach ?" 

"I can be ready to travel in an hour." 

"Beit so." 






RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 281 



Chapter IX.— All is Well. 

" In the Inn's best room" (the Crown Inn, at 
Bawtry*), sit 'Squire Faber and his lady. Refreshments 
are brought, but very little is eaten ; they look into 
each ether's eyes, and feel that each other's thoughts 
are perturbed, They look, often, toward the door, 
and are still silent ; but feel that the suspense is mu- 
tual. After a time, the door opens, when a scene pre- 
sents itself, which, under ordinary circumstance would 
have made the 'Squire wroth : two servants bring in a 
rickety old woman, bound fast to a chair, while a 
young gentleman stands smiling in the rear. 'Squire 
Faber detested all low tricks and buffoonery. The good 
lady of Heath Hall had a heart full of pity, when she 
saw that the old woman was infirm. But why bring 
her here ? Nancy Benton " knew a thing or two, " and 
this was the proper time to communicate ; so after 
being settled in a convenient position, and she had 
tasted a drop of something good, our Cavalier proceeded 
to examine and cross-examine her. 

" Tell us what you know about a young maiden 
called Sybil Yak." 

" May it please you, sirs, and madam ; I was hired 
servant with Nicholas, of Rossington Common. 

" Yes." 

" About seventeen years ago, as near as I can recol- 
lect, the gipsy woman brought a little girl to our house: 
that was Sybil, who passes for Nicholas Yak's daughter ; 
but she is not his daughter." 

" Did you see anyone bring the child in : be very 
particular in every circumstance ?" 

" I told you, sir (addressing her questioner) all about 
it before." 

' ' True ; but this lady and gentleman want te hear 
all about it, from your own lips." 

" No, I did not see anybody bring the child in ; but 
I heard Nicholas talking with a gipsy about this child, 

* An old Crown Inn, not the present hotel, which bears that 
name. 



282 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

and saw him put money into the woman's band before 
sbe left. I am sure that money was paid for bringing 
the bairn to him." 

" No doubt it was ; only we want proof of this. 
You did not hear him say ; here is the purchase money 
for this child ?" 

" No, I did not hear that." 

'Squire Faber began to shew signs of impatience. 
4 ' It is not material to us," said he, " whether a gipsy 
or some other person took the child to one Nicholas 
Yak ; unless, indeed, we have convincing proof where 
the little girl was stolen from." Then, turning to his 
wife, he said in a lower tone : — " This in no way proves 
that the child was ours." 

Our Cavalier caught the words, and answered : — 
" Wait patiently a little ; there are proofs to follow." 
Then pursuing his examination he said — 

" You would scarcely know the gipsy woman again ?" 

" One cannot tell, seventeen years is a long time 
to look back ; people change so in that length of time." 

" They do ; still you might, possibly, recognize her : 
we shall very soon have an opportunity of settling that 
point. If you can swear positively to the gipsy woman 
being present, and receiving money, when you first 
saw this child, we have evidence — not conclusive, I 
grant, because you did not actually see her bring the 
child in ; but still evidence worth noticing." 

" Much more may depend upon the result of my 
next question. Have you any articles of dress or orna- 
ment worn by the child when she was first brought to 
Rossington Common ?" 

" I have." 

The lady started, and looked towards the speaker 
with unusual interest. 

" Produce them." 

The old woman placed one hand, which was but 
slightly paralysed, under her cloak, and drew forth a 
little sash or belt, on which three letters were em- 
broidered, viz., A. E. F. The lady turned deadly pale, 
and it was only by a great effort that she was prevented 
from swooning. 

"She's her mother, sure enough !" exclaimed old 
Nancy. ' ' I could see that from the likeness there is 
between them." 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 283 

"Let mft examine that sash." 

"Yes," said Nancy Benton ; " I can trust the mother 
with it ;" and it was handed over. 

The possession of this little relic did the lady good ; 
for the tears coursed down her cheeks while she said : — 
"I worked these letters myself. This is my child's 
belt." 

" Have jou anything else ?" 

Old Nancy fumbled in her pocket, and drew out a 
coral ornament, set in silver, but which had been 
bruised and broken in several places. " This," said 
she, " I took out from the bosom of her dress." 

"Arthur, don't you remember buying this toy when 
our little Alice was cutting her teeth ?" 

" It might be so ; although I don't recollect it." He 
was like the generality of men ; such trifling mementos 
were no links in his individual existence. But she 
recollected it well. 

"Would Mr. Faber be kind enough to ring the 
bell ?" 

The bell, in those days, was a very primitive and 
substantial article, resembling very much one which our 
"town-criers" use now. 

He rang ifc, with some little exertion to the wrist. 

Jemima came. 

" There is a man and an old gipsy woman in another 
room," said our Cavalier. " Say they are wanted here 
immediately." 

The waiter backed out curtseying ; for in those days 
waiters studied politeness, and noble visitors were not 
so rare at country inns. 

Only a few seconds elapsed before the curious pair 
made their appearance, not handcufted, it is true, but 
mentally preserving very much the same relation. 

"Now, Nancy Benton," said our young gentleman, 
"you must tell us whether or not you ever saw this old 
woman before." 

" I think I have. I feel sure I have." 

"I know she has," replied the gipsy. Squire Faber 
looked up, and there was a glance of stern vindictive- 
ness in his eye as the paralytic nurse observed : — 

" This was the woman who brought that young child 
to Nicholas Yak's house." 



284 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

" I did bring her there," replied the gipsy. 

Our Cavalier drew the constable aside, and whispered 
a few words privately in his ear ; whereupon he and the 
old gipsy woman left the room, in much the same rela- 
tion as they entered it. 

The lady, turning first to her husband, remarked that 
to her mind there was now not a particle of doubt about 
this maiden being their own daughter : then she 
addressed our Cavalier, adding — that they were under a 
weight of obligation to him which no words could 
express. 

The young man stammered out something, but he was 
not happy in his reply ; for he dare not, just at this 
moment, give expression to all his hope. 

How true it is that often, in the most critical situa- 
tions of life, our joy or sorrow does not rise to the occa- 
sion. A greater earthly boon could not have been 
granted to the wealthy Fabers, of Heath Hall, and yet 

their satisfaction was simply tranquil. 

# * * * * * 

* * * * * * 

Three hours have passed, the scene shifts to a large 
timber hut on Rossington Common, and we have now 
to describe, very briefly, the concluding link in this 
chapter of evidence. Our lady and gentleman have 
brought old Nanny with them ; the gipsy woman is 
present, also ; having been waiting for some time, with 
the constable, outside. It happened to be a "cleaning 
day," and Sybil, although never slatternly, was clothed 
in her oldest and coarsest dress. She looked beautiful, 
for all that ; and blushed immensely when her own 
Cavalier, and the company drew up. Lucky was it 
that the old nurse, whom she had not seen for years, 
was present ; else her confusion might have been more 
remarked. Sybil scarcely knew what she said in com- 
pany, or how she looked ; feeling, howevei-, intensely 
happy that the young man had come to her, although 
she had not been able to keep their appointment. The 
Bible says truly, that a young being will leave father 
and mother, and cleave, &c. Scarcely did she regard 
the anxious glances of the strange gentleman, nor the 
tearful looks of the strange lady, because her lover's 
presence filled all her soul ; but when the lady suddenly 



Relating to Yorkshire 285 

clasped her in a fond embrace, she did turn and look 
with some degree of interest. The greatest truths in 
existence are generally communicated without words ; 
and thus it was that our maiden felt instinctively that 
this kiss was the outpouring of a mother's love. 
Then she almost swooned (for Avas not the great wish in 
her life now being granted ?) and for the moment al- 
most forgot that her lover was present. 

But Nicholas came in from the sheep-fold, and seeing 
all this company assembled in his own house, he stared 
as only a .rustic can stare. Moreover, being a courage- 
ous, rather than a courteous man, he asked, very 
bluntly, what they were doing there. 

"We are come," replied the Squire, "to fetch this 
young maiden away." 

" Not if I know it," replied he. But just then his 
eye happened to alight upon the gipsy crone, when he 
fairly trembled with fear and rage. 

" Who are these," said he, "that you have brought 
into my house ?" 

The gipsy answered, in rather a sarcastic tone : — 
" At last, you are honoured with a visit from the father 
and mother of Sybil." 

Then our Cavalier took up the cue, saying: — "You 
doubt it, perhaps. Would you like the evidence ad- 
ducing here, privately, or before my friend, Hugh 
Childers, of Carr-house ?" 

" I have no desire to appear before Squire Childers." 

"I thought not." 

Nicholas Yak, after being put into possession of much 
that the reader has already learnt began to excuse him- 
self. He swore( and the gipsy did not contradict him) 
that he never knew who were the child's parents nor 
where she was born. The true father hinted that this 
was information which he did not wish to learn. One 
thing, however, was evident, Sybil might have fallen 
into worse hands, for, no doubt, she would eventually 
have succeeded to all the wealth which Nicholas Yak 
had accumulated. 

And now our story — fragmentary, and very imperfect 
as it may appear — is ended. 

' Closed !' exclaims the readers. ' Why, you have 
told us scarcely anything yet. Who was this Cavalier, 



286 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

and what public or private business caused him to travel 
through this district of Yorkshire ? Having brought 
into family union a long lost, but marriageable daughter 
did he assume a high prerogative, and take her away 
again ?' 

It would occupy too much time, were we to answer 
all these questions in detail. Imagine, i-eader, a long 
succession of the happiest events, and become assured 
that the finale was, in every respect, just such as you 
could have desired. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 287 



Trades Unions at Sheffield, 



Part I.— The Evil. 

The Metropolis of Steel ! We have clone homage to 
her Genius of Trade * ; but have now to reveal — and 
probe, it may be — a foul cancer, which has eaten into 
the vitals. Men of Sheffield ! cut it out ; cauterize the 
wound, whatever amount of present suffering it may 
cost, for fear the whole body, social and commercial, 
should become a polluted mass. Now the world sneers. 
"Your town, 1 ' says one, "has secured for herself an 
undying place in history." 

Two or three days ago, I had some talk with an old 
disciple of Lavater respecting the characteristic type of 
Sheffield men. He stoutly maintained that for 
" knavery, brutality, and unblushing impudence" Shef- 
fielders justly take precedence over every other town in 
England." I quoted a few old proverbs : — " Give a dog 
a bad name, &c." "It is easy to kick at a man that is 
down, &c, &c." My opinion, honestly expressed, was, 
that a moiety of the people is bad, preeminently selfish 
and cruel ; also that, taken en masse, they had a some- 
what rude exterior ; nevertheless there are generous 
impulses, and great mental capacity manifested at Shef- 
field. The main point at issue between us (a very im- 
portant one, certainly) was, that he regarded the 
Crookes and Broadhead type as general ; while I con- 
tended that it is exceptional : the thousands are sound- 
hearted, the hundreds only are base. 

" The advocates of trades unions," said he, "want 
to persuade the public that only Broadhead, Crookes, 
and Co. — a very small, but select firm — are at all im- 
plicated in trade outrages, that the great body of union 
members, even in connection with the saw trades, con- 
nived not, and had no guilty knowledge of these things." 

" They speak falsely," said I ; "at least so far as the 
Sheffield saw trades are concerned." 

* Vide the " Iron Sinews of Yorkshire." 



288 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

"Of course they do. The members generally must 
have known that the enormous sums demanded of them 
in contributions, amounting often to one-fifth of their 
earnings, could not be required for legitimate purposes. 
It is but a poor disguise to say that their guilty know- 
ledge and connivance extended only to ' rattenings.'* 
In many cases (Linley's and Fernehough's, for instance) 
they knew that, owing to high walls, and the constant 
presence of watchmen, obnoxious individuals could not 
be rattened : still they voted that something must be 
done ; so one was shot at, and another was blown up, 
together with his family, at midnight. The trades 
union officials appear to entertain strong notions of then- 
prerogatives ; and yet they went to work on philosophi- 
cal principles, on a graduated scale. If a man will not 
pay his "natty money"f he must be raitened ; and if 
the masters still give him work, in a secure place, then 
all the other men must be withdrawn from that particu- 
lar wheel or factory ; if the masters persist in employing 
non-union men, then their works must be blown up ; 
but if such blowing up is only partially successful (for 
most factories are strong), then the non-union men 
must be maimed or shot, otherwise blown up at mid- 
night, together with their families, when sleep had 
made them unconscious of danger. Supposing two or 
three heavy jobs were decided upon at the same time — 
such as the blowing up of a factory, and the shooting at 
some obnoxious man — which would necessarily entail 
extraordinary funds, the contributions were specially 
enhanced ; so that many an union man had to pay 8s., 
10s., and even 12s. out of his week's earnings. I\Iost 
of these payments were disguised in the societies' books 
under some general heading, as, for instance, ' expenses 
of investigating committee.' It is true, the unions have 
their 'head-centre' and small committees of manage- 

*As these papers are destined to be read for ever and ever, 
it may be necessary to define certain trade terms, so that after 
centuries have elapsed, when both the practices aud phrases 
have become obsolete, future readers may not stumble over 
obscurities in our text. 

Rattexixg : Stealing of wheel-bands and tools, whereby the 
-workman is deprived from following his labour. 

t Natty Moxey : Each member's weekly contribution to 
the uuion funds. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 289 

merit ; but there is scarcely an intelligent man in Shef- 
field but felt convinced that these notorious outrages 
were plotted and perpetrated by trades union officials, 
while a great majority of the members themselves 
willingly shut their eyes, for fear that an intimate 
knowledge of the atrocities should involve them in per- 
sonal danger. Look at the matter in a common-sense 
view. The inhabitants, when they went out in a morn- 
ing, heard of this murderous attack, or that blowing up. 
How did they suppose these outrages had originated ? 
Not from personal enmity or private malice : trades 
unions were at the bottom of all ; a dreaded conspiracy, 
to which people shut their eyes in fear. Is it not mar- 
vellous that such dastardly crimes should be batched in 
public- house meetings, and perpetrated in public 
thoroughfares, and yet the villains remain undis- 
covered?" 

" Marvellous indeed," said I : " moreover it is not 
difficult to perceive throughout this crime-stained 
town a strong desire to palliate the wickedness of such 
outrages. Deeds which men would shrink from and 
loath in their individual capacity are readily undertaken 
in combination, to establish trade-unionism, as if that 
end must be attained by whatever means, at any cost. 
It may be that none of those trade secretaries would 
have undertaken murder or arson from personal ven- 
geance or private gain ; just as the soldier, who will 
fight the enemies of his country, would not in private 
life cut down every one who happened to differ with 
him in opinion. Can it be possible that Broadhead, or 
the philosophic Crookes, actually brought themselves to 
regard trade-unionism as the noblest influences of life ; 
of far higher consideration than any other law, human 
or divine ? Truly it should be a worthy object to 
warrant such remarkable devotion !" 

Let us glance at the results. 

No Yorkshire Commission was ever conducted with 
greater ability than that which has terminated this 
Sheffield Outrage Enquiry ; indeed, had it not been 
for the wonderful discernment and determination of 
the Chief Commissioner, very little evidence would ever 
have been elicited. What vacillation, what systematic 
reticence, what unblushing perjury had the commis- 

S 



290 STOEIES AND SKETCHES 

sioners first to overcome. At length they did strike at 
the root of this organized rascality, and have now just 
issued their report. I had thought, along with many 
others, that this great collection of evidence would be 
supplemented with hints, and animadversions, such as 
local experience would give authority to offer. But, 
perhaps, such comments would be regarded as entrench- 
ing upon the Royal Commissioners province ; the ex- 
aminers' duty being simply to furnish evidence, and not 
to draw conclusions. The facts at least are significant. 
It appears there are about 60 trades unions in Shef- 
field, and that 13 of them are directly implicated in 
rattenings or greater outrages, the most serious of 
these latter being confined to the saw trades. It will 
not be necessary to enter into the historical detail of 
crimes, for these are familiar to every one who reads a 
newspaper ; and the catalogue is not likely soon to be 
forgotten. Yes, these Sheffield outrages have become 
historical. And yet there is something cowardly and 
despicable, as well as brutal, in the deeds : — two ruf- 
fians way-laying an old man, and striking him murder- 
ously on the head with life preservers ; villains throw- 
ing cans of gunpowder down the chimneys, or through 
the windows of quiet households at midnight ; secretly 
dogging a man's footsteps through the streets for weeks, 
with intent to maim him ; hamstringing a horse, &c. 

As a specimen of the manner in which trade outrages 
were carried out, we need but refer to that which is 
generally known as the Acorn-street murder. The 
fender grinders at Green-lane Works had a dispute with 
their master, and, as the latter would not yield, the men 
turned out. To supply their places Mr. Iloole obtained 
hands from Rotherham ; but when the unions found 
that Green-lane Works could still be carried on, every 
species of intimidation, insults, threats, and even blows 
were freely used (some of the victims being left for 
dead) ; so that policemen had frequently to escort both 
master and men. The non-unionists still stuck to their 
employment. Bribes were then offered ; and this same 
Wm. Broadhead acted as negociator. Five, seven, and 
even ten pounds per man were promised if they would 
turn out : they would not leave, however, under £20 
each so, one night an infernal machine was lit and 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 291 

thrown into a bed-rooom, where one of the obnoxious 
men, together with his wife and child, were supposed 
to be asleep. It appears, however, that a woman lodger 
had occupied that room for a few nights, and was startled 
by a crash through the window. She innocently took 
np the dreadful thing, and rushed with it down stairs ; 
but all this time sparks issued from the fuse, with a 
hissing noise. On the landing she met the grinder's 
wife (for all had been alarmed by the crash), who seized 
the dangerous missile with intent to throw it in the 
street, but it exploded in her hands. What damage did 
it do ? The women, besides being stunned, had their 
night dresses set on fire, the floor above was shattered, 
the house was set on fire, the man (Wastnidge) with his 
child jumped out of the bedroom window ; the wife, 
after tearing off her burning dress, made her exit the 
same way ; the lodger was found in a lower room almost 
stifled with smoke and fatally injured. All of them had 
to be removed to the Infirmary, where, after lingering 
in agonies for a few days, the female lodger died. An 
innocent man was suspected of the crime, and the case 
came on for trial at the March Assizes of 1862, when 
Mr. Justice Mellor expressed himself very strongly 
against the " fierce and grinding tyranny " which existed 
at Sheffield. He instanced as a proof of widespread in- 
timidation and fear, that even the surgeon of the In- 
firmary (to whom the women had been conveyed) ap- 
peared so alarmed about giving evidence that he was 
nearly being committed for contempt of court before 
he would answer questions fairly. 

By his own recent confession, the villain Renshaw, 
who did this deed, stood with the gathering crowd, and 
even helped to remove the injured woman. It appears 
he was to receive £6 for blowing up Wastnidge's house ; 
also £5 extra if it was "a good job :" the extra money, 
he maintains, was never paid, although his employers 
admitted that the job was excellently well done. The 
perpetrator confessed that he had no ill-feeling towards 
his victims, and did not, until the house was pointed out 
to him, know where they lived, his only motive being to 
obtain the money. Said he, "they (the unions) all 
join together, and they get poor b — s like me to do it." 

It is bad enough to strike a 7iian stealthily and mur- 

s3 



292 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

derously on the head, when he will not conform to trade 
regulations ; but to scatter destruction wholesale, 
amongst helpless and unoffending families is a method 
of retribution peculiar to trades unionism at Sheffield. 
The actual perpetrators of such outrages were, probably, 
not very numerous, and yet they must have been 
known, if not to the police, at least to a considerable 
number of union officials. In the Hereford-street out- 
rage (where Fernehough and his family were blown up) 
it has been clearly shewn that at least six persons, in- 
cluding three trade secretaries, were directly implicated ; 
and yet a proffered reward of £1,100 failed to elicit any 
information. 

Woe ! woe ! woe ! to the individual who will not 
not conform to trades union i-egulations. A man named 
Linley sets the Saw Grinders' Union at defiance ; he 
employs as many apprentices as will work for him, he 
pays no "natty money," and, consequently, is in a posi- 
tion to do his grinding on free trade principles . Well, 
working coutrary to union rules, he must be " made so 
as he can work no more." Two men are engaged to do 
the job ; and, at length, through the back window of a 
public-house, he is shot with an air gun. The victim 
lingers for several weeks, but ultimately dies of his 
wound. This job also "was excellently well done;" 
and Linley's murderers receive the maximum outrage 
fee, namely, £15, or £7 10s. each man. 

The Commissioners have obtained direct evidence re- 
specting four cases of shooting, with intent to do 
grievous bodily harm, three other aggravated assaults, 
seven attempts, more or less successful, to blow up 
manufactories and quiet households ; besides, above a 
dozen minor outrages, and several hundred cases of 
rattening. Is it the genius of trades unionism to 
develope great ruffians ; or, are the Sheffield trade 
secretaries simply gifted with a faculty to discover and 
utilize that vicious and violent element which pervades, 
more or less, all our large towns ? 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 293 



Part II. Query — Are Trades Unions Necessary 
or Beneficial ? 

My opinion is that trades unions are a bane to 
the working classes, and the pests of trade. For years, 
on all suitable occasions, I have not scrupled to say so, 
plainly, through the press. Reader, what is it that 
you would teach, by that significant curl of the lip ? 
"In spite of such denunciations, trades unions have 
not only maintained their ground, but greatly pro- 
gressed." Yes, that is true. And they have done 
some very effective work, particularly at Sheffield. 
There is a conviction widely and strongly expressed by 
careful thinkers, that these organizations can only be 
kept intact by coercion and fraud. 

Before attempting to consider, in detail, how trades 
unions affect the prosperity of trade in general, and the 
personal interests of individual members, we must look 
upon the question in a patriotic point of view. It may 
appear startling, but it is nevertheless true, that trades 
unions are, to a great extent, organised sedition. When 
a certain popular agitator (inspired by no Divine unction) 
counselled trades unions to bring the influence of their 
overpowering numbers to bear upon all questions, social 
and political, he knew the genius that would be in- 
voked. We have seen some fruit already ; and, if no 
salutary checks are imposed, the time may come when 
sober-minded men will stand aghast at the result of this 
teaching. Year by year, great armies of workmen are 
falling into rank and file, each under his particular trade 
banner ; and who shall say that they will not, some 
day, unitedly take the field, and fight for the supremacy 
of a class interest ? The reader, it may be, will make 
answer — "Well, and suppose they fight fairly, who shall 
hinder them? Mob law will never succeed* against 
wealth, and established precedents, in a well governed 
country ; therefore, indulge no gloomy forebodings of 
the future. Perhaps nothing in England can create a 
great national panic but a great scarcity of food ; for 
there is elasticity in our national resources, and per- 
severing energy in our national mind. The influences 



294 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

for good are far greater than the germinations of evil ; 
and, where the causes are inevitable, Englishmen will 
patiently endure a great deal of pinching. • There is 
true heroism in the national heart, and where the heart 
is sound no evils can be permanent." Friend, I like 
your doctrine, to a certain extent it is according to ex- 
perience, because, when unfettered, the heart of the 
nation speaks out thus. But do you not invariably 
notice that in mass demonstrations the evil elements 
are uppermost ; violent and selfish men gain a fatal 
predominence, simply from the power of impudence 
itself. Then what follows ? You know the old proverb 
— It is easier to raise the devil than to lay him. If 
trade shall fail, the time may come when working men 
will clamber into our Parliament House, on the shoulders 
of their representatives, and demand (legitimately, as 
some think, since it has been done in France) that the 
national treasury must supply them with wages and 
food. 

We should be sorry to charge trades unionism in 
general with the guilt of these Sheffield outrages ; no 
doubt the practical operation of each society will vary 
according to the individual character of the members 
themselves. But, since these trade outrages have been 
dragged to light, it is not surprising that the country 
and the legislature should keep their eye upon the 
Amalgamated Association of Trades Unions. To their 
honour be it spoken, the workmen of a few towns have 
defended themselves from any complicity in, or sym- 
pathy with such dastardly crimes. In London the 
unions have gone further — they demand that the saw- 
grinders shall expel from their society the coufessed 
plotters and perpetrators of these outrages. The saw- 
grinders are too consistent to do anything of the kind. 
Sheer good fellowship and unity of action have been so 
exemplary, that it would be manifestly unjust to make 
Broadhead and Crookes the victims of an invidious 
distinction. At a full meeting held a few days ago in 
the Temperance Hall, the members resolved that they 
would ' ' decline going into any justification of those 
things (rattenings, shootings, blowings up, &c.) being 
done, beyond asserting that they are but the effects of a 
cause — the want of some properly regulated legislative 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 295 

measures binding men in some degree to what is hon- 
ourable, just and good." The resolution continues— 
" We, therefore, considering well our present position, 
decline to disgrace ourselves as cowards by deserting 
the men who have taken upon themselves the task of 
risking their lives and their liberties for what they 
believed to be the good of the institution." Surely, 
after this, we shall not require examples of a bond of 
brotherhood. 

The resolutions just alluded to assume that Trades' 
Unions are a necessity of the age ; and that men 
"honourable, just, and good" will conform to trade 
regulations. Seeing, however, that there are occasional 
delinquencies, the Unions require legal power to en- 
force obedience. Still, in the absence of Parliamentary 
powers, any, even the most violent means, are not 
altogether to be discountenanced. Secretly shooting a 
man, or blowing up a whole family at midnight, are 
simply " effects of a cause," and must necessarily follow 
unless legislative measures compel men to what is 
"honourable, just, and good." Thus we have brought 
to light a new code of morals, specially incorporated for 
the protection of Trades' Unions. 

And now let us look carefully at the benefits which 
these societies are calculated, or assumed, to bestow. 
Their chief object confessedly is, to obtain from masters 
the highest possible wage for the smallest amount of 
work. But like everything else, the price of labou 
depends upon supply and demand. To restrict, h. 
supply, therefore, it is enacted that no workman shall 
take more than one apprentice in a given term of years, 
and sometimes not even that : moreover, that no man 
shall engage himself to any master, except through the 
medium of his trade union, which society shall stipulate 
at what price and on what conditions he may work. 
Thus we see that the individual member has little scope 
for the exercise of private judgment ; but, as in those 
secret societies which we read of on the Continent, the 
renagade or disobedient soon becomes a marked man. 
Now this policy might be unobjectionable supposing there 
was a fixed and uniform supply of work — just so much, 
and no more, all the year round. But trade is fluctua- 
ting. There may be some masters, who, from the nature 



296 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

of their contracts are willing to give more wages than 
others ; and it is very certain that all masters are able 
to give better wages at one time than another, according 
to the ever varying phases of the markets. One master 
may only have a precarious supply of work ; another suf- 
ficient to supply his hands constantly with over-time. 
Moreover, the shop-room, machinery, and motive power 
vary considerably in different establishments ; all of 
which counterbalancing circumstances would be taken 
into account were the workman permitted to conclude 
his own negociations. Strange that the working men 
will not see how there must be free trade in labour, as 
in everything else ! — freedom of action both in regard to 
masters and men. When the employer says: "I can 
afford to give you so much wage for so much 
work, and no more," the artizan can cither accept 
the terms or carry his labour into another market. 
All this is perfectly just and equitable, for each 
man is a free agent, and can exercise his own volition. 
But, supposing the master was to say — "You shall 
come to work on my terms, whether you like them or 
not. Dare to stay away, and my overseer shall whip 
you up with the 'cat.' Should it be necessary to re- 
peat this discipline for two mornings in succession, or 
three times a week, the delinquent shall have one ear 
cut off; but if he still remains incorrigible — resisting 
authority — and there be neither ear or nose left for 
amputation, then he shall be shot." 

Working men ! do not mistake the writer's inten- 
tions, and infer that he is a " special pleader" for 
the supremacy of capital over labour. God forbid that 
I should ever attempt to sneer at, or curtail the privi- 
leges of our industrious artisans ; who are, indeed, the 
source from which all true national wealth springs ! 
Do we not see a great succession of our best men — the 
world's leaders — rising from the ranks of those born 
to labour ? But I am not afraid to speak the thought 
that is in my mind to any class, without fear or favour ; 
and to the great body of artisans I say, humbly but 
earnestly; — "Have no fellowship with the unfruitful 
works of darkness." 

But we are diverging somewhat from the main line 
of argument. Consider it as proved that trades unions 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 297 

do advance and maintain the price of labour ; we have 
still to bear in mind that this result affects only the 
small number who will work, and can obtain employ- 
ment. As the Sawgrindei's' Union is, at present, 
brought most prominently before the public, we will 
take its operations to illustrate our views. It appears 
that this society is restricted to 200 men, of whom a 
majority chooses to labour, and the remainder will do no 
work if they can help it, preferring to subsist upon the 
"box scale," rather than distress themselves with any 
such unpleasant and injurious occupation. Of course 
these men of leisure are not averse to a little congenial 
recreation. Moreover, gratitude impels them to under- 
take any desirable job of rattening, blowing-up, or 
shooting, which the interests of such a benevolent in- 
stitution may require. But is the generosity real, or 
only assumed ? Alas ! for human nature ; we are afraid 
that even in such a case the generosity is not genuine. 
In addition to the " scale," there are special rewards, 
averaging from 5s. to £15, according to the nature of 
such secret service : it is that material reward which 
tempts them. Men who do not average a week's work 
per year, are kept in idleness by the funds of the 
society, the argument deduced being, that there is a 
higher rate of wages for those who are employed. [The 
fact is altogether ignored that those men's idleness is a 
tax upon national saws, seeing that the buyer must pay 
more for such articles than he otherwise would do if 
the labour market was free .] It has been proved in 
evidence that these loorking sawgrinders have contri- 
buted upwards of £40 per week to the funds of their 
small union ; and that one individual had received no 
less than £200 " scale " for leading an idle, worthless 
life. 

One feels surprise that intelligent working men do 
not perceive that such monopolies are bad ; injurious to 
trade, and, in the end, a positive disadvantage to 
themselves. Supposing that Sheffield could secure a 
monopoly in the manufacture of knives, saws, &c, it 
would matter little what minor restrictions were imposed ; 
but when Belgium, France, America, and other coun- 
tries, where labour is free, are disputing with us for 
supremacy, the policy of high prices, and restricted 



298 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

production becomes ruinous. It seems preposterous that, 
with the population and general requirements constantly 
increasing, any particular trades union should decree 
that only a very limited number of men are eligible to 
work. The results of this narrow-minded policy will 
not be confined to the particular trade in question, 
since there are various other branches mutually depen- 
dant. We are credibly informed that, scores of times, 
masters refuse to accept orders, which under favourable 
circumstances would be amply remunerative, entirely 
because of the uncertainty attending the labour market. 
The consequence is that, although this country, and 
Sheffield in particular, possesses great natural advantages, 
foreigners are gradually getting our trade ; not unfre- 
quently supplying even our home market. Trades 
unions are ruining trade. But are the great bulk of mem- 
bers immediately and essentially benefited by their own 
policy ; for some men, we know, would kill the goose 
to get the golden egg ? The sums which individual 
workmen have to pay for making labour scarce, are be- 
coming a serious tax, amounting in the saw trade to 
about twenty per cent, of the gross earnings. Secondly, 
in most cases, the secretary, like Broadhead, keeps a 
public-house, where union meetings are regularly held. 
In all cases punctuality of attendance is strictly en- 
joined ; for, soon as ever a member begins to absent 
himself from the meeting, at once does he become a 
suspected man. As might be anticipated, there are 
often very interesting topics for careful consideration. 
If the orators become earnest and excited, a reaction 
necessarily follows, and the nervous energies have to be 
recruited with gin ; when the speakers are prolix or 
profound, a great deal of beer is drunk, particularly 
by the listeners. All this time, while the secretary's 
coffers are filling, the workmen's earnings very sensibly 
diminish. Thirdly (an alternative) : if they do not 
suffer in purse they must suffer in person. Most of 
these trade-outrages were perpetrated upon working 
men. Had the struggle been directed against capitalists, 
as a class, the proceedings although equally unlawful, 
would have been better understood. " You must think 
as we think, and work with us," says the despotism at 
Sheffield, " or be made so that you can work no more." 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 299 

The better portion of working men are rubbing their 
eyes, awakened out of a horrible dream. They were 
previously getting tired of being mulcted of their earn- 
ings to support idle vagabonds and designing knaves, 
and it was nothing but intimidation and force which 
prevented them from renouncing allegiance to trades 
unions. 

The Sawgrinders' Union says truly that their outrages 
are the " effects of a cause," and that something must 
be done to legalize union operations, making men 
" honourable, just and good." Government ivill do 
something, assuredly ; but supposing it be by limiting 
rather than extending the power of trades unions ; then 
the Broadhead type of trade secretary may become ex- 
tinct. In the meantime provisional measures must be 
adopted to prevent a recurrence of these outrages. 



Part III. — Can Legislature put the Labour 
Question Right ? 

We have had plenty of evidence respecting trade out- 
rages, particularly at Sheffield ; the country has been 
horrified and indignant at the recital of such deeds ; 
the press, and even great bodies of trades union mem- 
bers have denounced special agents in scornful terms, 
and now comes the great practical question — Is it 
possible to remedy this state of things ; and, if so, 
how? 

It is scarcely likely that an Act of Parliament will be 
passed next session making all combinations of work- 
men for trade purposes illegal. "No, indeed," says the 
reader, "that would be interfering with the liberty of 
the subject." And is not the operation of trades 
unisns an interference with the right of individual ac- 
tion ? Do they not dictate to masters who they shall 
employ, and to workmen how and on what terms they 
shall labour ? 

"Let me speak," replies one grimy artisan, with a 
sinewy form and an earnest face ; ' ' then, after I have 
spoken, say on." 

Yes, tell us all that is on your mind. 



300 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

"Well, things are not just what they ought to be 
amongst workmen themselves. I go into a factory or 
workshop, and see one man with his coat on, walking 
listlessly about ; he does not leave the works, but his 
chief occupation consists in eating and drinking and 
looking on. Around are three or four ragged men, 
whose appearance bespeaks more of brute strength than 
intelligence ; there are, also, five or six boys straining 
and sweating and attempting to work above their 
strength, thereby entailing crooked limbs and premature 
disease. Those hard-working men receive from 1 6s. to 
18s. per week ; the over- wrought boys, 7s., or, at most, 
9s. per week ; the looker-on gets £5 or £6, and not un- 
frequently £7 a week, because he contracts with the 
masters, and gets slaves to earn his independency. Is 
this right ? No. In such cases as these the ' ' liberty 
of the subject " wants interfering with. Now, such a 
state of things cannot exist where trades unions have 
full jurisdiction. The union says, no man shall be 
deemed fit to perform any handicraft unless he has 
qualified himself by a regular apprenticeship. More- 
over, no individual shall ruin his trade or oppress other 
workmen for his own selfish aggrandisement ; therefore 
every man shall work on equal terms, taking only one 
apprentice, who will thus be enabled to step into his 
tutor's place when age or disease may incapacitate the 
latter from labour. This is righteousness and truth." 

To all this we have only one answer : — The labour of 
children ought to be protected — a jealous eye should be 
kept over all factories where children are employed ; 
but if adults are silly enough "to woi-k their blood to 
water " for another man's benefit, no one has any right 
to interfere with the mutual arrangement. This man 
may be a fool and the other a knave ; but wisdom, 
equity, and prudence will never be disseminated by acts 
of Parliament or trades union resolutions. One thing is 
significant, that whenever any man has a little sense he 
gets a little money as the fruits of his own exertions ; 
then he learns prudence by experience, and wants no 
trade3 unions to help him. But where he does not de- 
sire their help, can he protect himself from their inter- 
ference ? That is the real question which our legisla- 
ture may have to consider. We will assume that work- 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE, 301 

men have a perfect right to combine, and that trades 
unions are equally lawful with benefit or sick societies ; 
but as, for various reasons, there will always be non- 
conformists, how is the latter's freedom to be protected' 
" This is all mock sympathy," says the unionist. " In 
trade societies, as in everything else, the minority must 
give place, since it is only where trades unions are 
numerically strong that they are enabled to dictate 
terms. It is necessary that the workmen should be 
thoroughly united, since capital is well able to protect it- 
self." But the strife is ruinous to all. At the late 
West Riding Assizes, an action for libel was brought 
(ostensibly by a workman, but really by his trade society) 
against a Sheffield manufacturer. It appears that the 
file-grinders' union commanded Messrs. Turton to dis- 
miss one of their workmen who was not conforming to 
union rules. The firm refused to interfere, whereupon 
not only filegrinders but union men in other branches 
left in a body, thereby causing much inconvenience and 
loss. At Sheffield the masters also have their union ; 
and they resolved not to engage any of those men who 
had thus left Messrs. Turton's employment. The names 
of these "turnouts" were inserted in the master's 
"black list," so that when any applied for work at other 
places it was invariably refused them, because, as was 
notified, their place was still open at Messrs. Turton's, 
and where they might go baek. Thus the hands were 
in a fix ; no new firm would employ them, while, to 
resume work at Messrs. Turton's would be virtually 
abandoning the union ; so they decided to try the 
legality of this "blacklist," and one of the masters 
who thus refused employment, and gave a reason for so 
doing, was made defendant in an action. The Judge, 
in recommending a compromise, said some wise things 
about this unholy strife between employers and em- 
ployed, but when a verdict from the court was de- 
manded, the decision could take no unprejudiced mind 
by surprise. The Judge ruled for the defendant, on the 
ground that ' ' what is sauce for the goose is sauce for 
the gander," and that even masters have a perfect right 
to combine in their own defence. 

I have heard men, who call themselves voluntarists, 
contend that all trade abuses will best cure themselves, 



302 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

without the aid of legislative or judicial interference . 
The struggle must be carried through, say they, by the 
contending interests, and •' the weakest must go to the 
wall." It is certainly not the tenor of this age to 
demand stringent laws for the abolition of combina- 
tions ; it may not be the province of our Legislature to 
determine the rate of wages, or bind masters and men 
by a stipulated mode of working ; but surely it is the 
duty of the public and the Legislature to prevent these 
trade struggles being carried on by outrage and fraud. 
And here we have a few words for the employers of 
labour at Sheffield. There is no doubt but that a con- 
siderable number of masters have connived at illegal 
practices, partly out of fear, but more commonly for 
the sake of peace. Where members are in arrears with 
their " natty money," or otherwise not conforming to 
society's rules, these facts are often brought very tan- 
gibly to the employer's notice ; a smithy bellows is cut, 
a wheel-band, or important tool is carried away in the 
night, and, as a consequence, labour has to be tempo- 
rarily suspended. Perhaps the master felt convinced 
that, until such trade dispute was settled, it was use- 
less to repair or renew the articles, for besides the extra 
cost, there was no security against a repetition of these 
outrages ; so the almighty trade secretary had to be 
conciliated. If the party rattened came to the club 
and paid up his arrears, with a further sum for " Mary 
Ann,''*" he invariably was informed where his bands or 
tools might be found. In such a case procedings went 
no further, and the man was graciously permitted to 
work for his living. It not unfrequently happened, 
however, that the workman was unable or unwilling to 
pay up the stipulated trades union impost, when the 
master would advance it for him, and stop the amount 
by weekly instalments from the man's wages. This was 
altogether wrong. The duty of manufacturers, in- 
stead of thus redeeming their own property, was to 
have delivered those rattening agents to the police as 
conspirators and felons : that would be an effective 
method of stopping many future trade outrages. 

* Expenses incurred in taking away the bauds, &c. ; a pro- 
portion of which (iu ordinary cases 5s.) was invariablv 'ad- 
vanced from the box funds to such rattener directly the job 
was done. 



RELATING TO YORKSHIRE. 303 

Intimidation exists very largely in many forms, and 
trades union executives now appear to be drawing nice 
distinctions as to how far they can apply deterring 
or retributive influences without making themselves per- 
sonally amenable to statute laws. Every week adver- 
tisements appear in the newspapers counselling work- 
men in certain trades to "keep away 1 ' from certain 
towns. Not unfrequently, we learn that where a dis- 
pute has arisen, and the old hands have been withdrawn 
from certain establishments, that the unions adopt a 
system of picqueting, by which all new operatives are in- 
tercepted, often insulted, sometimes threatened, and 
usually deterred from following their employment. 
Now, a great deal of such like intimidation may be 
carried on without the victims being able or willing to 
swear before a magistrate that they are afraid of re- 
ceiving " serious bodily harm," short of which, it is 
commonly considered, that no one has any legal ground 
of complaint. It is always best to watch narrowly the 
buddings of evil, and crush it then ; this system of 
espionage and intimidation is the distinguishing general 
feature of trades unionism ; and it is not unlikely that, 
next Sessions of Parliament, we shall have a little clearer 
elucidation of the law in relation to such matters. For 
sometime yet, perhaps, " offences will come ;" but it is 
for our Legislature to give power to the anathema : — 
" Woe unto those by whom the offence cometh !" 

And yet, on second thoughts, would it not be wiser, 
and far more glorious, to effect a reformation apart from 
special legislative enactments ? On looking through 
some of my old contributions, printed twenty years ago, 
when " liberty, equality, and fraternity" was the watch- 
word, I find in the People's Journal such sentences as 
these : — " An effect never arises without its cause ; if a 
people will have wise government they themselves 
must be wise. To elevate a nation you must begin 
with the individual ; for, unless intelligence; sound 
moral and religious principles circulate in the veins of 
society, legislative or municipal enactments will never 
make a wise, a contented, and prosperous people." And 
again :-— " Personal improvement is the foundation of 
all national greatness." In trades unions particularly, 
there is great scope for the exercise of sordid, cruel, 



304 STORIES AND SKETCHES 

and malignant passions, so that each institution is sure 
to become leavened by the individual character of its 
leaders. No society can receive any credit by the intro- 
duction of Sheffield saw-grinders. If the associated 
unions have any good and honest intentions let them 
purge themselves of all such miscreants as Broadhead, 
Crookes, and Renshaw ; for men of that chai'acter never 
repent, and their very presence is a contamination. 

In protecting individual liberty no wise man would 
desire to see class organizations put down by force. 
That kind of legislation does not accord well with 
"English proclivities." There is a great depth of sound 
generous impulses in the heart of our British artisans ; 
more than can be found in any other people under the 
sun. They have not received that kind of gentlemanly 
education which gives them the art of gilding or con- 
cealing the most heartless and selfish designs. No ; their 
greatest faults all appear on the surface, in the public 
eye ; and I sometimes think that their adhesion to 
trades unions springs more from an impulse of honour 
and mastery than any intelligent conviction of right. 
With a little better education, working men would have 
more individuality of thought, and become less in- 
fluenced by designing demagogues, who only use them 
as a ladder for their own selfish aggrandisement. Let 
us hope that the time is not far distant when the people 
generally will see that class organizations and trades 
unions in particular, work mischief continually. No 
doubt the root of the evil lies in the want of true sym- 
pathy between man and man in their several relations 
of life. There ought to be a stronger bond of feeling 
and interest between employers and employed, instead 
of that fatal jealousy which tempts each to extort as 
much as he can from the other. There wants more 
general recreation, a closer mingling of rich and poor, 
as in "the good old time;" more generous f eastings, 
and more sports. Mass meetings of this kind would 
soon render trades unions abortive, and demagogues 
would find their occupation gone. Moreover, if instead 
of Limited Liability Companies in trade being em- 
barked by speculators with no equitable intentions, 
working men were encouraged to save part of their 
earnings, and invest them in establishments which their 



STORIES AND SKETCHES 305 

own exertions alone would render productive, the tone 
of English trade would be far more healthy and pros- 
peious. 

Meantime, cannot some general, feasible plan be 
adopted to prevent the endless recurrance of strikes and 
lock-outs. In one sense these results may be regarded 
as national calamities, because they restrict our trade ; 
still the immediate consequences are local, affecting the 
retail dealers and rate-payers in those districts where 
the disputes arise. In a town like Sheffield, would it 
not be well to have a standing Board of Arbitrators, 
elected annually, or for a term of years, by a majority 
of the burgesses ? Every trade dispute of any magni- 
tude (particularly where it had resulted, or was likely to 
result in a strike or lock«out) should be referred impli- 
citly to this board ; and, although the arbitrators would 
be invested with no compulsory powers, still the justice 
and equity of their award might possess a moral power 
which would remain unchallenged. In nine cases out 
of ten trade disputes originate in bad feeling, and are 
aggravated by personal affronts, making it afterwards 
almost impossible for the contending parties themselves 
to discuss the real merits of their case in an impartial 
spirit. At such times the adjudications of an indepen- 
dant Board of Arbitrators would be everything that 
could be desired. 



DONCASTER : 
Hartley and Son, Printers by Steam Power, High-street. 



